Category Archives: Eating, Drinking, Cooking

Potatoes, Pasta and a Handful of Tears

I won’t talk about the weather anymore.  But that’s hard.  Because it makes you feel crazy when one day it’s forty degrees and the next eighty-five.  When your garden suddenly jumps up crazy wild before your eyes.   That happens here.  … Continue reading

Posted in Eating, Drinking, Cooking, Food for the Sick the Tired and the Lonely, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Sleeping in a Bed of Incense

Oh someone is breathing down my back again.  Sending icy chills down my spine.   I can feel them even in my stomach, lungs and heart.  What’s left. This dark dark week when I feel like I’ve already been sent to … Continue reading

Posted in Bus Stop Stories, Eating, Drinking, Cooking, Food for the Sick the Tired and the Lonely, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

When Your Mother Had Holes in Her Socks

I woke up at 3:00 a.m. today.  And I don’t know anymore if today is really today. What is today.  Not even sure it merits a period or a question mark.  Or maybe just a blank space.   All the … Continue reading

Posted in Eating, Drinking, Cooking, Food for the Sick the Tired and the Lonely, Uncategorized | 7 Comments

Martini Morning

It’s April 9.  There was that thing I was supposed to do about Christmas.  There was that thing I was supposed to do about Easter.   I will get to it.  And then maybe I will understand something. Christmas has come … Continue reading

Posted in Bus Stop Stories, Eating, Drinking, Cooking, Food for the Sick the Tired and the Lonely, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Food for the Sick the Tired and the Lonely

I ran out of butter.  I wondered how I could possibly eat my toast this morning. Because this was a day I had to have eggs, butter and toast. When I saw there was no butter, I didn’t exactly panic, … Continue reading

Posted in Dmitri Hvorostovsky, Eating, Drinking, Cooking, Food for the Sick the Tired and the Lonely, Uncategorized | 5 Comments

Chrysanthemums, The Beautiful, and Dmitri Hvorostovsky

There are some people, when they die, whether you know them personally or not, when they die someone digs a deep hole in your heart. Makes you feel dizzy like all the blood just drained out, like all the evil vampires just got you. Makes you cold and frightened uncertain of where your hands or feet or face are. Continue reading

Posted in Always the Garden, Dmitri Hvorostovsky, Eating, Drinking, Cooking, Ukrainian stories, Uncategorized | Tagged | 28 Comments

The Scent of Rain Walking Home Through the Park and Green Tomato Pasta Sauce

What a rainy day.  And cold. And dark.  The kind of cold rainy day that goes right through the bones as they say. I still get up early.  Because, even though it’s October, I still must have my first cup … Continue reading

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