I LOVE EVERYTHING about this photo of a multi-tasking mama — an unknown photo researcher in Paris — hard at work in 1982.
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mothers
SISTERLESS AS I AM, all my original lessons on sisterhood came from my sweet, sweet Mama. Here she is in 1981 with baby Brother T. Of course, I still catch her gazing at him with that exact same adoration now 30 years later. Happy Mother’s Day to all the mamas (and mama’s boys)!
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CONFESSION: I ONCE CHECKED OUT The Idiot’s Guide to Quilting from the Greensboro Public Library. And then it sat in my dorm room with some fabric scraps for several months collecting late fees before I finally returned it. So I haven’t had much luck getting the basics down (which makes me feel super lame next to the women in this video). But every time I see fantastic women creating beautiful quilts I’m in love. It’s love. (Like that lovely bespectacled lady says.) Now if this isn’t sisterhood, I don’t know what is.
(Thanks to my crafty friend Cara for posting this video!)
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HAPPY MOTHERS DAY! Here’s a picture of my mother when she was my age. Isn’t her 1970s style amazing? (She rocks the center part and aviators so well.) I love you, Mama! What are you doing with your mom to celebrate?
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SO ABOUT A MONTH ago, when I had first gotten home for semester break, I tweeted about a very sisterly moment between my mother and me, in which we gorged ourselves on pistachios and talked about Alec Baldwin’s undying handsomeness. Lo and behold, the Wonderful Pistachio company (twitter.com/@getcrackin) contacted me several days later and said that they chose my tweet as one of their recent favorites about pistachios. And furthermore, that they would like to send me some free nuts! I was a bit skeptical at first. [click to continue…]
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THIS IS OUR YEAR FOR A THANKSGIVING with a twist. I’m living in my first apartment that really feels like home (hooray!), so last week my mom packed a bag and drove down the coast to spend the holiday with me. We’re going to be eating an all-vegetarian meal with some dear friends in Charlotte. On the menu is old-fashioned corn pudding, apple crisp, mashed potatoes, sautéed kale, and baked squash with apples. What won’t we be eating, you ask (turkey and ham aside)? Seaweed. Yup, that’s right. Because we already tried that on Thanksgiving. [click to continue…]
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1970s Polaroid of my mother (back) with my grandmother and my aunt.
MY FAMILY’S STORY OF FOOD is partly the story of our evolution, of our identities unraveling into who we are today. As a third-generation American, I can barely pronounce gnocchi, let alone make it. And while that seems almost tragic to me, that’s the way my Italian grandmother and great grandmother would have wanted it—their offspring bearing the regional accents of New England and not of Asti. (My great grandmother, Nanny, actually used to pronounce that pasta dish “gnoch” in an effort to sound less Italian.) [click to continue…]
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S O HERE’S A relic of second-wave feminism straight from my mother’s bedroom wall.
Women united cannot be defeated! Women united cannot be defeated!
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First time here? Here's the idea: 