Having been a low-grade insomniac for most of my life, my new unquenchable need for sleep and my inability to function without it has been one of the autoimmune symptoms I’ve had the hardest time coming to terms with. But thanks to project wellness, I’ve learned how much my immune system depends on it, which was enough to turn being unconscious for 8 hours from a necessary evil, into a luxurious, sacred treat.
So for this month’s sleep experiments, I wanted to find ways to navigate my waking life that would set me up for bedtime success, instead of dooming those late night hours into becoming the waste of time I’d always feared. Continue reading
When I was preparing for Charlie to move into my small studio apartment over the summer, I had to do some serious dehoarding. I knew the closets would be the hardest emotional battle of me versus the Good Will bag (because I definitely am going to wear my sweet 16 dress again one day). But what I didn’t prepare for was having to look at my cookbook collection with fresh eyes, a steel heart, and a pair of metaphorical pruning shears.
I’m lucky to be at a place in my career when I get a lot of book swag sent my way. But the result of not buying something yourself, is that you don’t always have the anticipation required to immediately rip open the package and devour the contents. If a cookbook makes its way into my possession during a particularly harried day, it can end up in a pile on the coffee table, left to die a slow death under a stack of month-old New Yorker magazines. Continue reading
This spicy chicken tortilla soup recipe is one of my favorite things to make when that first fall chill hits the air. For one thing, the change of seasons means I inevitably get a cold. And there’s nothing like a little ancho chile powder to kick some life back into your stuffy sinuses. Continue reading
I know that people start to lose their $h%$ over pumpkin season the second it’s deemed culturally acceptable, (i.e. September 1st). But when I think of fall and the ingredient that farm stands actually overfloweth with, even as early as September 1st, my eye is on apples.
I’m a total sucker for fairs this time of year, especially when they involve hay rides and corn mazes. Sadly, both attractions are slightly more socially acceptable (and exciting) when you’re under 4 feet tall. So for those of us slightly less vertically challenged, “mature” individuals, who aren’t mature enough yet to actually be toting our own vertically challenged accessories (children), the best fair activity to get a little too excited about is apple picking.
It’s officially football season, I think. As you can see, this concept is not something I’m intimately familiar with in my household. But now that I have a roommate with a pair of cojones, I presume that I will become acquainted very soon.
I’ve already returned home to the TV set on ESPN on more than one occasion. Which, I suppose, must be just as jarring as it is for Charlie to turn it on and find the Kardashians staring back at him. Continue reading
I know that it’s a beyond cliché thing to say the second week of September, but seriously, where the eff did the summer go?
As many of you know, summer to me is the precious time I get to spend on Martha’s Vineyard. I got two good chunks in July and August, including Labor Day weekend. But somehow I managed to miss a lot of my greatest hit traditions. There was no Minemsha sunset. No bike ride to Art Cliff Diner. And most indicative of the comings and goings of the seasons, no Portuguese kale soup. Continue reading
This peanut butter banana smoothie was one of my most popular recipes of last year. It also happens to be one that I consume on a weekly basis. You can call it a smoothie if you’re drinking it before 10am, but it also doubles as a healthy “milkshake” in the afternoon, especially if you use frozen bananas. Continue reading
When I was little, I was hyperactive. I had so much trouble falling asleep my parents would give me a cocktail of melatonin, valerian root drops, and, catnip (which apparently has a very different effect on humans than it does on felines). When that failed, they’d sit with me doing breathing exercises until I finally conked out (or pretended to).
I’ve resorted to those same breathing exercises many times in my adult life, especially in college, when my mind would race so much thinking about exams and jobs and boys that I would often stay up until morning in a state of mental mania. Continue reading