66 Square Feet (Plus)

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...

Breakfasts, these days. Or, this week. Above the rising and falling tides of coastal Maine, way up there and over to the east, and not at th...

May means peonies in buckets at bodegas and corner stores, and I dive right in. I don't drink fancy coffee to go (my Caffe Najjar in the...

Evenings are edging permanently outdoors again and are loud with surround-sound robins. Our new mockingbirds (what happened to the old ones?...