All posts filed under: waiting and waiting for the food to come up

radish butter and yoga| a raisin & a porpoise

body of work

There was this one time I was leading a horse into a field. I was maybe 12 years old and well-acquainted with horses, especially this one. Though he knew me, this horse did not know the field or the other horses in it and he did not feel super relaxed about going through the gate. He communicated his hesitation to me pretty effectively through his body language, a special skill of horses. I tried to relay his message verbally, as I understood it (“No”), to the person who had asked me to lead the horse into the field. She maintained that he had to go in there, and that I should insist. I insisted. He resisted. He planted his feet firmly. He tossed his head around mightily. And when this failed to overcome my continued attempts to urge him forward, he did some impressive snorting and whinnying, thrashed his head pretty hard, and then he reared up. In order to prevent him from running away at the high speeds I knew him to be capable …



It’s been over a month since I posted, so here is a month’s worth of posts all at once, in a breezy kind of Reader’s Digest format. Whee! Always something new over here. Many, many years ago, when dinosaurs still roamed the earth and I did not have any children, I fell under the tutelage of an herb wizard who boosted my lifelong fascination with natural remedies up to a whole new level.  I watched her move with ease in her gorgeous garden and through the weeds outside it, responding confidently to the various health complaints of her family, setting beautiful meals on a gracious table, and I was totally inspired. Among her many gifts to me was a book by Lalitha Thomas called 10 Essential Herbs, which I devoured.  It’s a fantastic primer. Thomas’ sensible voice, and the distinctive one of my other book-teacher, Susun Weed (her French-y characterization of the dandelion, putting one in permanent mind of this, is one that you can never un-hear) are always echoing through my head along with …

hashing through the weeds/nettles and potatoes from A Raisin & A Porpoise


Years ago, two friends started a debate about how many dollar bills could be stuffed into a soft-sided suitcase (it was a Le Sportsac, if you must know–it was the 80’s, and we can only apologize for the time in our history when we referred to suitcases by their brand name).  “Infinite!” said one of them.  “Finite!” said the other. About three months ago, my friend Suzi asked me to participate in a kind of blogger’s chain letter, a mutually supportive exercise in talking about writing and raising awareness of each other’s work.  It was just the sort of thing I ought to be saying ‘YES!’ to, in order to be More Committed To Writing and Building My Readership.  And it was just the sort of thing I ought to say ‘no‘ to, in order to be actually more committed to actual writing, and because if one more skinny little figment of a commitment gets stuffed into the decidedly soft-sided suitcase of my mind, the seams surely will not hold. It should come as no …