

The Cobbler
“Spring is the time of year when it is summer in the sun and winter in the shade.” — Charles Dickens. One of the houses where I lived when I was very young was surrounded by berry brambles and rows of raised planters. Summer mornings I sat on the lawn, restless, at the beginning of an endless day of childhood, within the folds of ill-fitting khaki shorts. There were pleasant interludes to the drag of being a kid with a humid summer to endure. There were blueberries. I poured


Pretty Edible Things
The reprieve of mealtime compels us to a communal participation in appetite and aesthetic. When in harmony, what sustains us and what excites us becomes a celebration of you and me -ness, a reminder that what we crave has less to do with cake as it has to do with the icing we as children scammed off our mothers’ beaters. For these reasons, the things that make up food and drink- the techniques of combination and the ingredients therein- bear consideration, poking at, smelling