My husband is a very safe driver. But sometimes, it is incredibly dangerous for him to be behind the wheel. He won’t cut people off. He won’t speed excessively. He’s considerate in most every way. But sometimes, the amount of control he has over where we will end up (bequeathed on him by his default…
Folks, what I’m about to tell you may not apply to very many of you – it’s the sort of niche, uber-specific travel advice that only a few of you will benefit from, but I still think it’s worth sharing. For those of you who to whom it doesn’t apply, I hope you will at…
Seattle’s been inexplicably sunny this past week – so much so, that I actually started to forget what fall was like in this part of the country. For the record, it’s usually gray up here this time of year. But instead it’s been sunny and cool, and downright gorgeous. Hopefully all this fantastic weather is…
1. Cut-out decoration of a German man, Ashland Elks Lodge Oktoberfest. – 2. Contemplative statue, Lithia Park. –
I have a lot of friends who make white van jokes. I mean, we all do, don’t we? Laugh about the nondescript white van that’s lurking around our neighborhood, though in the back of our minds we keep an eye on it, because if some kid disappears, it’s the first thing we’re telling the police.…
I love cheese. Were it not for cheese (and my first love, cake) I would be thin. It’s something I always tell people. And it’s true I think, were also not for pasta and carbohydrates and other things. But right now, let’s blame the cheese. The wonderful, glorious cheese. When Rand and I were in…
… is kind of lame. There. I said it. Sigh. Here’s the thing: I love kitsch. I love dorkiness. I love things that would make other people cringe with embarrassment, roll their eyes, and otherwise want to storm out of the theater/museum/restaurant. It brings me such gleeful joy. Like children on leashes and chocolate cigarettes,…
I woke up this morning with absolutely no clue where I was. I had yet to open my eyes, but as I lay in bed, a dozen or so thoughts flashed through my brain, and among them, “Are we in California? No … that’s not right … and not New York. What time zone is…
I may have sustained a serious bump on my head during our last stay at a Kimpton hotel, because the French doors in our room decided to plot against me (note: always be wary of the French). And I might have gotten into a slight skirmish with the packaging on my vanity kit, because I…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
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