About the author
Banana Split Cake: All-American Dessert
This article originally appeared in The Curator July 24, 2009. My cooking skills are laughable - or they were, until a few months ago. No one ever taught me to cook, so my abilities never stretched beyond making macaroni topped with shredded cheese or popping a frozen pizza in the oven and pairing it with a sliced cucumber. It's embarrassing to admit. My husband jokes that when he married me I could burn water. And ...
A Love Letter for the Season
This article originally appeared in The Curator November 20, 2009. Dear Autumn, You are the sexiest of all the seasons. When you come around, I drop everything and give myself to you wholly. I will be your mistress, and I will love you even on the darkest and greyest of days. I will lay in the grass and stare up at the nakedest of trees, thinking only of you. I will never call you fall, only autumn. Fall is ...
Why I Shoot Film
For too long in the early days of our marriage, my husband and I were without a camera. We have no photographs of our long drive from New York State to the Deep South a few days after our wedding; none from our honeymoon to Portland, Oregon. I sold my 35mm SLR, a Pentax ZX-M, to my father before our wedding for two hundred bucks. As far as I know he never used it. I had never used it much either. [caption id="attach...
The Beautiful Beach: A Photo Essay
It is May 7, 2011 — a Saturday. We drive forty-five minutes south to Dauphin Island. This will be the last time we will visit the Gulf of Mexico before moving away. It had been more than a year since the BP oil spill. Last summer we didn’t go to the beach at all. My husband Adam got a part-time job doing EMS standby for those working to clean up the shores. He said time and again that it wasn’t that bad wher...
Where It Will Start Again
Three days after our wedding, my husband Adam and I packed everything we owned into a U-Haul and drove south out of New York State. We had no plan, only a destination: the Gulf coast of Alabama. We left behind everything that was familiar and started a new life together in a new place. We planned to stay for two years. Now, nearly six years later—with no plan, only a destination—we’re moving back. A few even...
Thankful the Hops Were Freed
It is Sunday, late in the afternoon. Sunday is a day not only good for church or football; it is a day when draft beer is half off. My husband Adam and I drive downtown to a local pizza joint, not for pizza but for the beer. We slide our one-year-old daughter into a high chair and order: Bell’s Two Hearted Ale for Adam, Great Divide Fresh Hop for me. This particular restaurant has a selection of beer that beats any...
The Year of Journaling Fearlessly
The wall of notebooks was the sexiest place in the bookstore. I would stand before it, searching for just the right one that might be perfect for recording all of my brilliant thoughts. When I found the one—often the one was both beautiful and pricey—I would take it home, set it in a conspicuous place, and wait for inspiration to strike. I’d mean to write in it, and sometimes I would for a day or two before it ...
Sundays, Football and Chili
Being my favorite of all seasons, fall is synonymous with so many good things: apple cider, changing colors, pumpkins, and scarves. The downshift to cooler weather means we can once again enjoy a day outside without sticky clothes and sweat stains, a welcome change for those of us living in extremely warm climates. Best of all, the onset of fall brings with it a favorite ritual at my house, Football Sunday. [capti...
