The Jar Had a Point
June first. The jar was not going to open. I want to be clear about this: I tried the twist, I tried the hot water on the lid, I tried the rubber grip pad that lives in the second…
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7 entries tagged #sundaymorning.
The Gouda Argument Was Not My Business
November seventeenth. I went for the honey. That was the whole plan, stop at the Sunday market two blocks over from the usual route, find whoever was selling the dark buckwheat va…
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What Sunday Mornings Know
November thirteenth. The call came in at eight forty-seven. I know the time because I was still holding my coffee and the screen lit up and I recognized the number and, before I'd…
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Smaller Than Expected
August twenty-eighth. I showed her on Thursday. Not the published version, the working draft, the one that still had a crossed-out paragraph in the middle and a note to myself in…
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The Cardigan in Question
October fifth. There's a specific kind of Sunday morning that starts with opening the closet and immediately closing it again. Not because there's nothing to wear, there's somethi…
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Low Heat, Apparently
Eggs. I have been making scrambled eggs since I was maybe fourteen. I have made them fast, over high heat, pushed around the pan aggressively until they were done, or what I thoug…
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The Wrong Part Got All the Attention
I re-read the post from a few days ago this morning. Not on purpose, I was just looking for the link to share with someone, but then I kept reading, the way you do when it's your…
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