DAY 100

Of course it’s a photo of food, you guys! What else?

Actually, I’ve got two photos for you today. One is of dinner, a recipe from the Shalane Flanagan cookbook. (Shalane, your fish looks nice but mine has roasted potatoes so I’ll take the win here 😉 ) 

The second photo is a stack of books in a newly discovered used book store in my neighborhood. (Right next to the place with the killer green tea. Uh oh.)

The book store was packed full of books. There was an aisle or a pile for every genre you can imagine. It was quiet, it was messy for the forest but organized for the trees, it felt like I belonged. I’m sure I’ll be back (specifically for that gently used Zadie Smith novel in the far right aisle). On a sunny afternoon when you discover a book shop and find the perfect iced tea and get everything on your grocery list. When you eat pico for lunch and read with the windows open for the rest of the day. Those days are magical in their small (or large) surprises.

But then again.

How many photos of food do you think I’ve taken in the last 100 days? Probably too many. (I can’t help it; I’m a millenial.) The thing is, some days are ordinary. Some days the highlight is a homemade dinner. A new recipe. A still-warm-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookie. That doesn’t make those days worth any less. There’s time for surprises and there’s time for consistency.

This posting-every-day consistency is over for me for now. I’ll still post, but I’ll give your Twitter feeds a break for a bit.

Okay. Okay.

What’s next?

Indian Takeaway, Part Two

Chana poori: our current favorite from New Dehli. It’s deep-fried Indian bread with a chickpea masala that’s spicy but not too spicy. It’s basically perfect.

As is the phrase “takeaway” and I don’t understand why we don’t use that instead of “take out.”

Cat Naps

Marathon training means Sunday long runs means Saturday early nights.

Cupcakes to the person who can guess what year that air conditioner is from. 😂


This guy. Gets double the chips and pico because he knows. Walks with me to CVS when I forget to run an errand on my way home from work. Snags me free sunscreen to test. Sends me all the articles so we can talk about Ed Balls Day and that weird Fyre Festival.

But still won’t pose for my Snapchats.

Spring, Sprang, Sprung

How did we get the hard-sounding spring when Spanish has the lovely, vowel-y primavera? Primavera comes from the Latin words meaning earliest blooming (primus + ver, which literally means spring but is referring to the actual blooming of flowers). Spring comes from the Germanic word springen, which means the same. It was first used to refer to the season in 1547, as the flowers were “springing” (or whatever the German translation) from the ground.

You guys, aren’t words fun?

Mim’s Memes or Memes of Mim

When your brother makes memes of all the cat photos you send him. (Memes is the correct word, right? I am too old for this. Also, where does that word come from?*)

*Meme comes from the Greek word mimema, “that which is imitated.” It was coined by Richard Dawkins (seriously?) in The Selfish Gene (SERIOUSLY?) to explain how cultural information is spread.

You can find an answer to everything on the internet.

Mint, Rosemary, Basil

Every night we tuck these little guys in between the window and the room darkening curtains. I like to think it’s helpful, giving them some alone time with the sun at dawn. Lean in, lean in.

On this week’s agenda, which is growing increasingly full, is a stop at Greensgrow to check out some soil and plants. The question is, just how many tomato plants can I fit on the deck?