Before I became a parent, I had no idea what folks were talking about when they mentioned just how much time children gobbled up. In fact, during our last birthing class, just before our son was born, I recall hearing one of the midwives tell the group in attendance not to be surprised if we…
One of my most beloved childhood books was Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree. A bittersweet coming of age tale about one man’s relationship with an ever-generous tree, from boyhood on through his twilight years, I was deeply enamored from the very first read (or, more aptly, from when it was first read aloud to me)….
No doubt about it, I like digging in the dirt. Now that spring is officially upon us, and the weather is behaving accordingly, I’ve been working with all manner of soil and compost and manure and more. Seeds have been planted, weeds have been cleared, and mulch has been spread. All of which has taken…
I think I was about 5 years old the first time I attended the Easter Egg hunt held on the grounds of the White House. While I don’t recall all of the specifics, I do remember with clarity that there was a line to get in that wrapped nearly all the way around the property…
I think I was about eight years old when I got my first puppy. My brother was 10, it was Christmas Eve and we were living in Chesapeake, Virginia. I found it odd that our mom was playing Barbra Streisand albums really, really loudly all night long. But she’s an eccentric one, that mother of…
In 2006, I decided I was ready to move out to the country, get some chickens, grow a garden and trade in my city garb for flannel shirts and muck boots. Luckily for me, out of nowhere came the man who would be my husband and along with him an 11-acre homestead in a forested…
Several years ago, when I still had an office job (as opposed to the job that now occurs whilst wearing my p.j.’s), one of the nurses at the doctor’s office where I worked loaned me a copy of Asheville, NC-based author Sarah Addison Allen’s Garden Spells. The book tells the story of two sisters, Claire…
I’m not sure how it was decided, but as soon as I could steadily hold a broom and reach the countertops, I became our family’s designated housecleaner. While my brother took out the trash and mowed the lawn, I did the dishes, swept the floors, cleaned the windows, ironed the laundry, scrubbed the sinks and…
In January 1991, when I was 15 years old, my mother, older brother and I moved into the most eccentric dwelling I’ve ever lived in. Montreat, N.C. is a tiny, quaint, gorgeous town just outside of Asheville. It was in this charming hamlet that we hung our hats for a mere nine months, moving into…
Historically speaking, I’ve never had trouble falling asleep. Once my head hits the pillow, I’m gone. To wit, there’s even talk of my having slept through a hurricane when I was eight years old. Becoming a parent, however, has proved a sleep-pattern game-changer. Oh, those nights of uninterrupted solace that used to be so common….
My upbringing was a sweet one. I mean that in the most literal sense of the word. Mom and Dad adore sweets, a trait no doubt generationally bestowed upon them, as both of their mothers were fans of all that is sweet. Growing up, it didn’t matter whether we were visiting Nanny, my maternal grandmother,…
I’m what you might call a simple kind of lady. My personal care routine is about as straightforward as it gets; I prefer the quiet company of friends and loved ones in intimate settings to the wild riot of the city; and I drink my coffee from a French press, with cream and nothing else….
I came to alcohol a bit late. While I recall my mom sipping white wine, clad in skintight Gloria Vanderbilt jeans and listening to the Eagles circa 1981–1982, she eschewed the stuff completely shortly thereafter and has ever since. The diligent, studious type, I mostly steered away from alcohol until my early 20s. But a…
I have what I’ve dubbed a “hound’s nose.” Depending on how you look at it, this can be a blessing or a curse. I can sniff out specific aromas as soon as I step into a business or residence. This is great when it’s a French bakery, and less pleasant when it’s, say, a cat’s…
I once read a blog where the author asked what culinary practices or ingredient requests invoked the greatest fears in readers. Someone remarked that they turned the page whenever a recipe included a whole vanilla bean in its ingredient list, finding the practice of scraping out the tiny flecks much too time consuming. For me,…
When I was living in Washington, D.C., in my early 20s, two tandem events turned me into a homemade chai tea-maker. First, I was working as a retail clerk at a natural foods store with a juice and coffee bar. In an attempt to curb my coffee consumption, for nearly each shift I worked I’d…
Each autumn — typically in tandem with the changing foliage, the appearance of pumpkins on porches and stoops and the consideration of Halloween costumes (My husband is vying for our almost two-year-old son to be “Assistant Groundskeeper Carl Spackler,” Bill Murray’s character from the film Caddyshack!) — I get the sniffles. And the sneezes. Brought…
We’re huge fans of all things apple at Chez English. From cider and doughnuts to ice cream, if apples are involved, we’re on board. And while we certainly didn’t plan it, we discovered after he was born that our son’s birthday, October 21st, is National Apple Day in the UK. Clearly, the fruit is our…
My husband, Glenn, and I are always throwing parties. Well, “gatherings” is probably a more appropriate term, as our shindigs more closely resemble low-key, casual, intimate affairs than full-throttle keggers. Whether it’s an impromptu dinner with friends, or a southern foods potluck for 30, we love to entertain, and do so regularly. A few years…
Hello, mid-September! Where did you come from, and how did you get here so fast?! Seems like just the other day I was putting away our flannel sheets and retiring my trusty Blundstones for the season in favor of flip-flops and garden clogs. Suddenly the leaves are mustard and ochre tinged at their tips, the…
