• the messy mundane

    Monday mornings while I mix scones, sheet out pastry dough, and wash dishes, I listen to podcasts.

    Specifically, I listen to Fresh Air. 

    Wanna know what I love about interviews? 

    They are just conversations with people who have lived their lives, suffering and failing and trying, and then during a quick 45 minutes, we get to look back at the whole messy story and watch as an astonishing arc rises from the mundane. 

    Inevitably, the interviews give me new perspective on my own life. Like everyone else, I, too, don’t know where I’ll end up or what may emerge. This truth makes me feel both hopeful and grounded. 

    (Reading the John Lewis books about the Civil Rights Movement, I had the same sort of epiphany. Back then, people were doing what they needed to do — chaotically and incorrectly and without any guarantee of results — and then, over time, this Thing, the Civil Rights Movement, emerged. From where we sit now, the Movement seems like a given, but it wasn’t. Back then, the capital-M Movement was just lower case-m movement. In the midst of living, it’s all a jumble.) 

    Anyways, if you have a big cooking project coming up and need some interviews to listen to, here are a few goodies I’ve enjoyed recently. 

    Anna Deavere Smith asks incredible questions: How are human emotions captured in the rhythm of our language? How do the rhythms in which we speak reveal our internal disarray? She says that when people struggle to make sense of something, they often end up creating “gorgeous architectures of language” — isn’t that beautiful? (The audio clips of her theater monologues are stunning.) 

    This interview with The Atlantic writer Helen Lewis about masculinism, which is all about the belief that feminism emasculates men (because men apparently don’t feel strong enough to withstand the power of the feminine, I guess?), is a doozy. Interestingly, both liberals and conservatives have a right and wrong way to be a women. For the conservatives, the wrong way is to be a “small-breasted biddy,” as Reverend Douglas Wilson said (this year!). And for the liberals, there are the Karens — meddlesome women who insert themselves. In either case, the behavior is “wrong” primarily because the person doing it is female. 

    Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor, a scholar of the N-word, speaks in a way that is deeply nuanced and challenging. If you’re anything like me, you may find the podcase requires some soul-searching and a conversation buddy. My advice? Tell a good friend to listen to it, and then go on a walk together to discuss. 

    When legal scholar Kimberle Williams Crenshaw was a kid, her parents expected their children to come to supper prepared to share something that they were thinking about or that they’d learned. In other words, meals weren’t places to shut up and eat — they were times to show up and share. (Kimberle often had to leave off playing with friends early so she’d have time to prepare what she was going to talk about at supper!) Kinda makes me wish I could redo our family dinners.

    ***

    Bonus! The Netflix documentary about Martin Short is a cacophony of activity, grief, and laughter.

    Eighty percent of living is failing, Marty says, without even a twinge of resentfulness. Once you accept that failure is a central part of life, it doesn’t sting as much. 

    This same time, years previous: best damn pork butt roast, something you might not know about me, banana pudding, the coronavirus diaries: week 70, mushroom burgers with cheese, the quotidian (7.9.18), nose spots, a photo book, the quotidian (6.9.14), let’s talk, the quotidian (7.9.12), basic and plain (and delicious), while I can.

  • the new book nook

    At the top of our stairs is a teeny-tiny closet room. For years, we used it as a kid bedroom. It was ridiculously small and typically crammed with all sorts of kid junk — the sort of room that, whenever I’d walk by, I’d have to half close my eyes to retain any sort of emotional equilibrium. 

    Here, let me show you.

    Evolution of a Closet Bedroom

    circa 2006

    circa 2010

    circa 2020

    circa 2021, mid-dunging out (I hope)

    Then when the kids outgrew it, we turned it into a little library.

    circa 2026

    As a “library,” the room was never much used. The space was too small for hanging out with other people, and everyone had their own rooms to go hide in, so it ended up being cluttlered dead space. 

    But then when we were renovating my younger daughter’s bedroom last year, I had the brilliant idea to knock out the walls and create a hallway sitting area.

    My husband wasn’t too sure.

    But a space at the top of the stairs, I argued, would be the perfect little getaway spot when we had a house full of people. We could put in a floor-to-ceiling bookcase, a soft rug for lounging, and a loveseat for a nursing mama or napping toddler [insert star eyes and melty faces]. Plus, since we only have one main living area, when guests come over, we have no indoor space for kids to run off to so the adults can have after-dinner chitty-chat. This would solve that.

    Persuaded (coerced?) by the brilliance of my logic, my husband heaved a sigh and played along. Over the last few months, the transformation inched forward.

    My older daughter knocked out the walls and wired the room.

    She and my husband built bookshelves.

    My mom scoured Facebook marketplace for little loveseats, and then my husband and I drove over the mountain to pick one up.

    We found a second-hand rickety coffee table and my husband shortened the legs, tightened it up, and painted it white. 

    My big contribution was the carpet.

    using blankets to determine correct rug size

    I visited multiple rug stores, alternating between dragging my husband and mother along with me.

    After much belabored discussion, I finally landed on a white remnant.

    It was the most time I’ve spent being interior decorator-ish in years

    My mother donated an old electric candle to use as a nightlight, and we bought a new lamp, curtains, a world map, and, voilà! A book nook was born.

    P.S. My husband likes it.

    This same time, years previous: cracked all-the-grain sourdough, live it well, the quotidian (7.6.20), fresh strawberry cake, one weekend only, the quotidian (7.7.14), let’s revolutionize youth group mission trips! please!, grilled flatbread, for hot summer days, playing make believe, sniffing for cake, cake for breakfast.

  • the quotidian (6.29.26)

    Quotidian: daily, usual or customary;
    everyday; ordinary; commonplace

    Sticker shock: $9.

    Gelato prep: first batch sang, second batch bombed.

    The final filet mignon: fall butchering can’t get here fast enough.

    When a Venzuelan cheesemaker from Canada comes to visit and brings samples!

    Morning with mamas.

    He only wears white and black, so he bought them in bulk: $2.75 a shirt.

    When the vacationers’ freezer goes out, everyone races to save the goods.

    Before (unintentionally) leaving us with an inconsolable babe and a non-working bottle.

    So he won’t see we aren’t his mama.

    Evening glow: inside.

    And out.

    This same time, years previous: seven fun things, help a set of grumpies out, will ya?, the gaping void, family road trip: Acadia, the quotidian (6.29.20), roasted zucchini parmesan, fútbol!, dark chocolate zucchini cake.