Author: janet

making the most of the end of the season | a raisin + a porpoise

souped up

I come from a long line of passionate fearcasters. OH, went the thinking around the fire in our ancestral cave, THIS COULD BE BAD. My people discuss risks and downsides. You could catch something! You could lose something! You could yourself be caught or lost! Fearcasting and its sister activities, catastrophizing and anticipatory grief, do lead to preparedness. I’ll say that for them at least.  If your people are these kind of people, then you travel with the prescription as well as the pills. You secure a paper copy of the records even though they are supposed to be transferred electronically. A double-envelope kind of existence is demanding, in lots of ways, but it pays off exactly often enough to perpetuate itself. Or rather, it bites you so hard when you operate outside of it–as in it’s the ONE TIME you don’t send the thing certified mail AND return receipt requested that they claim it was either mailed late or not received–that you double down going forward. You should not for one second confuse this …

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packing tips + pickled beans | a raisin & a porpoise

how we bean

Today’s theme is HARD TO GET THE STUFF IN THE PLACE. Not too long ago we traipsed into the wilderness for our annual camping trip. Then we traipsed back out again, little bits of soot and ash and pine needles stuck to our selves and to the mountain of gear that continues to lurk around the house, in need of shaking and rinsing and hanging and—most arduous of all—folding back up into the little origami pellets that the corresponding stuffsacks demand. My wilderness travel tip remains unchanged from last time: travel with Greek persons, or, if those elude you, travel with anyone who only feels comfortable heading into the wilderness for two days with a minimum of 7 heads of garlic, 8 eggplants, 14 lemons and a pontoon (metric measure) of olive oil. Some of our travel Greeks (we are lucky enough to have a whole set) had to leave early, and as my friend packed up her share of the goods, she offered me her bottle of oregano. I declined. Are you SURE? she …

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grilling peaches and some other good stuff for dinner | a raisin + a porpoise


What a weird summer we’re having. If I were writing a six-word memoir of this season, that sentence above would have to make the short list, along with ‘What Is Up With The Dog?’ and ‘Try Starting Dryer Before Clothes Rot’ and possibly ‘Let’s Put Kombucha In That Hat.’  It’s a weird-weather summer, dry and yet humid, and the plants (and the people) are showing the strain. It’s a weird summer of keeping a watchful, helpless-feeling eye on politics and on various relatives and on an increasingly senile house pet, a weird-in-general, hodgy-podgy summer of things both coming together and falling apart, of things being limp and drippy, yet parched. It’s still summer, though. Which means popsicles and more popsicles, as many as possible, and being certain, late at night, that as summer wanes (didn’t it just begin?!), there is more fun to be had than I am making time for. And it means enjoying unscheduled stretches of minutes and hours with my three kiddos, all home under one roof by dint of a miracle …

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