Author: janet

marmalade: must we? | new post on a raisin + a porpoise

haul pass

In reversals of fortune of any scale, there’s a tension for me between giving myself a break because I’m going through something difficult and doubling down because the work is unfinished. And as long as we’re on this side of the grass, the work is unfinished: the work of grief, or recovery, or redress, or of just attending to life in general.  Whatever work there is, it certainly gets an assist from rest and recharge. But the personal ‘by’ is tricky tool to employ well. There’s a big risk of letting the self miss important opportunities. There’s no shortage of fresh horrors to compound the political news that seemed to reach its apex on November 9th, but re-grouping from the wallop of the election results is not something we can really afford, as citizens, to drag out. Because that wasn’t the apex. It was the opening bell of the next round. Good people are out there doing the work of resistance, and they need help. [If you have not already done this, please click here …

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this is what you want for breakfast | seedy bread: a gluten free miracle, from a raisin + a porpoise

health insurance

I would like to tell you a fascinating and relevant story about this bread, but I think I won’t because I don’t have one and because my arms are really sore from a shoulder thing that was perpetrated upon me in yoga today, a pleasantly virtuous discomfort that makes it uncomfortable to type. Virtue without discomfort is the theme of this bread, a photo of which I shared on instagram earlier, causing a positive stampede of 7 people online and one in the grocery store to ask me how to make it.  I’m giving you a recipe, below, and also giving you my blessing to utterly ignore it, because the chain of descent from the place where the bread appears to have originated on down to my oven contains many strong links. You should glance around at the various ways to make it, and then make it with the things you like in it.  Then you should have a slice, toasted, for breakfast, and you will be empowered to do weird and revelatory shoulder things …

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to the rescue: baking + dogs, on a raisin and a porpoise

to the rescue

I’ve had good reasons to put it off, but I can’t any longer. We have to talk about the dog. Or at least, I have to talk about her. If you would like to skip over potentially challenging things and head straight to cookies, scroll down a few paragraphs with my blessing. I truly understand the impulse, especially with the whole world on fire and everything. The part about the dog starts this way: Dog B, as I have referred to her here from time to time, was born in Puerto Rico, where nothing much went right for her and a great many things went wrong over a length of time we can only estimate, until she was scooped up in an angelic rescue bucket brigade that wound through Florida and New Hampshire (Oh, Florida.  Oh, New HAMPSHIRE.  But I there I go again, putting it off–) to our house on a hill in Massachusetts in 2009. She had a pretty nice time of it here. We provided a safe and pleasant place for her …

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