I’m immensely grateful, dear readers, for your commentary and fine company.
Art by Hannah Rothstein
“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
Staying I lift my lamp beside the golden door.” – Emma Lazarus
Painting: The Refugees by Tamara de Lempicka, 1937
To bolster my spirits for the upcoming holidays, I’m trying a new recipe from My Paris Kitchen. Celery root soup with horseradish cream and prosciutto chips seems like a fitting way to begin the Thanksgiving feast. I’m invited to a friend’s house, along with 20 or so others, so I’ll have to quadruple the amounts. The one part that intimidates me is peeling more than 4 pounds of celery root. (Any tips greatly appreciated.) It’s another day of 80 degree weather in L.A., which makes the approach of the Christmas season even more surreal. But today, I can feel it’s breath. Can you?
Illustration by Megan Foldenauer
Domination of the thermostat
Last cookie is there where you left it
Clean or messy – it’s up to you
Drinking liquids straight from the container without shame
Someone else’s snoring won’t wake you up
Home is an argument free zone
Being a slug on the couch without witnesses
No one nearby to ask “do I look fat in these pants”
Closets are for you to fill
Breakfast for dinner, whenever you like
Image from thisisn’thappiness