Seasonal living and the sensual, sensate life.

Relationships and food

Taking Stock

Taking Stock

For a week now, the freezer door has refused to stay shut.  I will close it, only to have Greg complain it’s been cracked open all night, a puddle of water the damning evidence on the floor. Both of us have tried in our own […]

Oh Fall! How do I love thee?

Oh Fall! How do I love thee?

Let me count the ways. I love thee for cooler days and the return to roasting succulent cuts of meat, for rich sauces made from boiled pan drippings, and the serene pleasure of mashed potatoes larded with butter. I love thee for sweet baked squash […]

Acts of Faith, Part 2

Acts of Faith, Part 2

I’d long planned to write about canning what Greg and I have grown in our prairie garden this summer.  We’ve got loads of tomatoes, beans, peppers, leeks, potatoes and kale.  I wanted to talk about the sheer poetry of sealing San Marzanos into steaming glass […]

When One Has Lived a Long Time Alone

When One Has Lived a Long Time Alone

Prairie Chicken People keep asking how I am settling in to prairie living.  I could tell them about the long fall, astonishing for its temperate days and nights, that I sleep with the window open and have scarcely worn anything covering my legs from October […]

Consider the Turkey (Part One)

Consider the Turkey (Part One)

It’s long been my policy that if everyone else is doing it–think beanie babies and emoticons–I am not. For this reason, I currently eschew neon, pinterest, the smart phone, slack lines and Jam bands.    This particular ethos puts me in a pickle when it comes to […]

Salty Girl

Salty Girl

I’ve been called a salty girl on more than one occasion:  My normal public conversations tend to make my well-mannered man blush, and I can be as indecent as a briny sailor or rough as the most seasoned ranch hand.  I like to paddle in […]

What We Talk About When We Talk About Food

What We Talk About When We Talk About Food

My refrigerator is a disaster.   This morning, the city-dwelling boyfriend complained he couldn’t find the yogurt even though I directed him to the spot:  “Top shelf, left, against the side.”  And there they were, under 3 opened boxes of unsalted butter, a tub of […]