Comments on: January 15

By: Irena

Irena — Thu, 21 Apr 2016 06:45:21 +0000

Your friend who is a new mother must wear an absolutely tiny brass rat! (I thought mine, a 2011 at size 4.5, was small). Seeing the ring on your blog has extra meaning for me since I stumbled across your blog at the start of college when I was first attempting to cook, far from home and lacking my parents’ culinary skills. Thank you for some of the first recipes that I still, to this day, love to cook and share with my friends.

By: Meg

Meg — Thu, 04 Feb 2016 17:41:02 +0000

In reply to Meg.

I can’t (don’t wanna!) stop.

Dust
BY DORIANNE LAUX
Someone spoke to me last night,
told me the truth. Just a few words,
but I recognized it.
I knew I should make myself get up,
write it down, but it was late,
and I was exhausted from working
all day in the garden, moving rocks.
Now, I remember only the flavor —
not like food, sweet or sharp.
More like a fine powder, like dust.
And I wasn’t elated or frightened,
but simply rapt, aware.
That’s how it is sometimes —
God comes to your window,
all bright light and black wings,
and you’re just too tired to open it.

By: Meg

Meg — Thu, 04 Feb 2016 15:30:03 +0000

In reply to Meg.

Here is another favorite I was reminded of today. I’m addicted.

The Sciences Sing a Lullabye
Albert Goldbarth

Physics says: go to sleep. Of course
you’re tired. Every atom in you
has been dancing the shimmy in silver shoes
nonstop from mitosis to now.
Quit tapping your feet. They’ll dance
inside themselves without you. Go to sleep.

Geology says: it will be all right. Slow inch
by inch America is giving itself
to the ocean. Go to sleep. Let darkness
lap at your sides. Give darkness an inch.
You aren’t alone. All of the continents used to be
one body. You aren’t alone. Go to sleep.

Astronomy says: the sun will rise tomorrow,
Zoology says: on rainbow-fish and lithe gazelle,
Psychology says: but first it has to be night, so
Biology says: the body-clocks are stopped all over town
and
History says: here are the blankets, layer on layer, down and down.

By: Alexia

Alexia — Thu, 04 Feb 2016 01:37:27 +0000

Daniel Tiger songs have a way of lingering.
My kiddo grabs my ear and rubs it when she is sick/sad/needs comforting.

By: Lindsey

Lindsey — Fri, 29 Jan 2016 14:07:06 +0000

In reply to Lindsey. Love being here, as always! Also, loooved the "Quiet" episode.

By: Aubrey

Aubrey — Fri, 29 Jan 2016 01:14:54 +0000

I knew I had to read the work entitled ‘Humpbacks’ – whenever I’ve been whale-watching, every time a spout or fluke surfaces I have the urge to break into rapturous applause.

And I love the photographs – quiet, subtle, yet focused. A pair of hands speaking, a corner of hair, a smear of light: they say so much.

By: Judy

Judy — Wed, 27 Jan 2016 04:10:18 +0000

My daughter, now 20 and a college sophomore, used to want to fall asleep holding my hair, so I can totally relate to the sore neck thing! On long car rides, I would have to climb in the back of our minivan so she could take a nap and usually have to stay that way for about 20 minutes until I knew she wouldn’t wake up. Those days go by way too fast, so enjoy!

I’m in the middle of your first book and have earmarked quite a few of the recipes to try. Thanks for the stories!

By: Kara

Kara — Tue, 26 Jan 2016 19:25:43 +0000

I can’t thank you enough for this. Mary Oliver – what a poet. It’s wonderful to have recommendations from someone like you, who seems so thoughtful. And as always, beautifully written.

By: Kelly

Kelly — Mon, 25 Jan 2016 23:31:41 +0000

I’ve read and listened to each of your recommendations as I’ve been snowed in the past four days. My toddler took at 3.5 hour nap yesterday (this never, ever happens) so I savored every moment. And I bought… and smelled… and smelled… three quinces today. The first time I’ve ever bought them. What a treat! I can’t wait to try your recipe.

By: Lynda Engle

Lynda Engle — Mon, 25 Jan 2016 19:33:15 +0000

Hi Molly,
I think there’s a 3rd season of transparent. It was great wasn’t it!