Peter Rabbit Is Not Cute
We own cats. I feel that I have already made a fair number of startling confessions on this blog, so by this time, you really have no excuse for being shocked when I tell you that I am not a … Read More
Pomegranate Blood and Road Graders
Of all the places we have lived (and there have been a few), Feodora owns the market on all things perpetual, interminable, unremitting and unceasing (Yes, I am aware those are all synonyms. Aren’t you glad I didn’t bother to … Read More
Bouncy House Blues
Let’s just get all the rock throwing out of the way, shall we? I hate bouncy houses. I am a bounce house Scrooge. Upon discovering at the annual church picnic that we have apparently become the kind of church that … Read More
Butter and Rest: Hello, Autumn.
My beef is not with pumpkin spice. As I see it, pumpkin spice is like platform shoes: it can be done fantastically, something Mary Tyler Moore would pull off with class, or it can cause necks to break. Granted, my … Read More
Scraping the Bottom of the Emotional Watermelon
There are myriad different levels and brands of fatigue. There is the 36 hour labor fatigue, the sitting in Seattle rush hour traffic fatigue (which, it is worth noting, sometimes gets confused with being homicidal, but it isn’t. It is … Read More
Perfecto-Zizzbaum and Keeping the Grass Cut
“Definition of Luddite : one of a group of early 19th century English workmen destroying laborsaving machinery as a protest broadly : one who is opposed to especially technological change. The Luddite argued that automation destroys jobs.” This is an uncomfortable admission for me. I feel my hypocrisy … Read More
Airplane Wishes and Armpit Snuggles
It’s happened. The first day of school here at Feodora has come and gone and in the blink of an eye, fall has arrived. Like, we could literally see our breath this morning. SO. WRONG. But there have been signs … Read More
The Thighs That Bind
The weather has not turned to autumn coolness, and I was standing in the yard with my cup of coffee, following the instructions I had been given to “Watch!” Normally, this is when I hold my breath while the quail … Read More
Airing Out the Pasta Salad
I would never dream of so maligning the characters of any of my fluffy and darling quail as to suggest that there have picky eating tendencies. Perish the thought. But there is a particular giddiness I feel when I stumble … Read More
Butter and Rest: This is My Last Little Peach
I know. Enough with the peaches already. Get a new fruit, get a hobby, GET A LIFE. And I solemnly swear to get right on that… next week. But come on — this is my last Sabbath breakfast pitch before … Read More