66 Square Feet (Plus)

Outdoors. Why does it all taste better under an open sky? Open sky. Not as open as it once was. But we can pretend. The chimney swifts hunti...

As I arrived home yesterday after a photography expedition (mission: liatris), I saw a butterfly's erratic flight above the tiny patch o...

Red? Scarlet? Rose? Pink?  Today, in the luxury of 78°F air-conditioning (Central Park recorded 100°F, JFK 102, La Guardia 104), I strained ...

Picnic prep in the forage kitchen. Two focaccias (focaccie, I suppose) - mugwort and serviceberry - cooling. Tartlet cases flavored with yel...

This is June. Flowers and shadows. The longest days. Linden flowers for drying, for later teas and toddies. Earlier in the month I included ...

 ...is Bolero, reclaiming that word's place in my good graces. Ravel's Boléro, on the other hand, was played to syrupy death for me ...

 "What are you doing up there!?" (Then wonders whether he can grab the tuna mousse before I climb down.) My story about how the te...