And I Will Call It Silence

Today I am enjoying the silence. It’s a pretty noisy silence. The freezer compressor is going. The busy street outside remains busy. There’s the occasional bird cry. I expect at some point I’ll hear very loud music. My upstairs neighbors will move and all three of them are heavy walkers, so there will be the dully thudding of footsteps at some point. A truck just gently honked.

But, with the exception of pre-recorded message on the bus announcing it’s route, I’m not hearing voices. Which, despite my extroversion, is delightful.

It’s a funny thing, to be an extrovert who is mostly surrounded by introverts. I’m generally the person to invite people over, I’m expected to be the one who makes sure conversation happens (which isn’t the same as driving the conversation, and I’m expected to know that distinction too).… Continue reading →

Something of an Inheritance

One of my most recent posts was simply a photo that showed what makes me really feel that I’m in my mother’s kitchen.

It’s not the recipes. It’s the tea. And the big ol’ slab of a cutting board with a scorch mark. The recipe box. But not the recipes. My mother doesn’t, and hasn’t ever, needed recipes. But she has them.

I don’t know how many times I’ve said, nor how many times I will say, that I didn’t learn to cook from my mother. That I spurned that offering and have, as such, had to do a lot from scratch a thousand miles away.

I’ve gotten there. I’ve become deeply invested in food and cooking. Thus, my most recent visit home, I expected to cook.… Continue reading →