All posts filed under: almonds

your number is up

Thank you so much for leaping onto the various bandwagons I dangled before you. Every comment, like and follow was a lovely present to open. The winner of the giveaway is Tess, who has a box of treats en route just as soon as she supplies an address to me! It could have led to a lot of canine swagger, all that fan-love.  The dogs have a secure sense of their own good looks and charm, and they do dominate the Instagram feed. But we ended that ego exercise by taking the suitcases down from the attic and committing the ultimate act of dog deflation: leaving home without them, to head south to celebrate my mom’s 80th birthday. Travel has become a funny exercise in How Much Would You Pay For That Thing You Used To Count On? Is it worth $25 to have the Room To Unbend Your Legs package? How about $25 for the Ability To Take Luggage On Your Trip feature? Will you pay $10 for access to the Swift And Courteous …

not your mother's haroset, on a raisin & a porpoise

how i look

I am on my way to my high school reunion. I am hedging around saying which one it is, and it occurs to me suddenly how silly that is. It occurs to me how silly a lot of things are, when tectonic plates (real ones) and juggled plates (figurative ones) and other grand-scale matters are uppermost in my mind. I mean, lots of crazy bad crap is happening, at home and abroad. So the fact that I get to be 47 years old, and have three decades since high school to gaze back on—that suddenly seems like a silly thing to get squirrelly about. When I was plotting my course towards this occasion, I had to factor in that I’d be traveling quite a while before I got to set my bag down, and a lot of that on foot. Carrying several outfit possibilities around was kind of out of the question.  My default “feel more devil-may-care about how I look” setting is at the point on the dial marked “badass boots.” But I knew …

Dill pesto from A Raisin & A Porpoise

frond feelings

I don’t know what all of you have gotten done the last few weeks, but the dill’s sure been busy.  It has self-seeded in a good portion of my parents’ garden, and it’s about as high as an elephant’s eye, and I picked a whole big lot of it, knowing full well I had nothing to mince it up into (it’s mad tasty added in copious amounts to spinach, but I had no spinach). I just got kind of mesmerized by its abundance, and the waxy feel of the leaves and the bracing aroma as I picked.  Then all of a sudden I had a huge handful of dill, whose abundance I did not want to waste. Dill pesto!  There’s an idea.  Fearing it would be too aggressively dilly on its own, I threw some lettuce in to mellow things out. In a matter of moments, I had some glorious green goo. There are lots of things this would be good with, and for, and on. I imagined styling it up for you on a …