Oodles of zoodles, and a few meatballs, too. Zoodles, if you don’t know, are made by spiralizing a zucchini, which is pretty darned awesome. Heat them in the oven, and they, to my mind, are the best substitute for pasta. But that isn’t really fair, because I would honestly rather eat the zoodles. Really!

Why? I have been trying, and succeeding a good 90% of the time (sweets the weightiest albatross), at eating low carb. Not to be part of a growing bandwagon, but because my body has gotten very LOUD about what constitutes its best fuel. After trying just about every food combination imaginable to keep my hormones (and dreaded endometriosis) in check, keto (low carb high fat) works THE best. I have very little pain, fewer hot flashes, better digestion, more energy and focus (I didn’t know how foggy I was until I made the change). Also, to quote my friend Chrissie, “Where did your wrinkles go?” She is exaggerating, but my skin looks and feels great for a forty-six(!) year old. So zoodles, and casseroles consisting of my favorite pizza toppings (fennel, roasted bell pepper, mushroom, & Italian sausage), salmon, hamburgers without buns, bacon, and piles and piles of green things: broccoli, asparagus, cucumber, kale, lettuce, avocado, cabbage. These are my staples. So good.

Such a sap for this sweet girl, who, even in sleep is almost always on the move, wiggling, panting, stretching, smiling, cuddling. Juniper Beulah, I love you!

And to make this post an even more odd assortment, tomorrow I am going to my grandparents house for the first time since my Grandpa died. For reasons both obvious and puzzling, I am feeling a bit wrecked at the prospect. My family, member by member, is taking furniture and knickknacks, items random and sundry, and dispersing them to the four winds and our respective homes. My list includes a ladder-back chair, a whisk, bookends, a bowl, muffin tins, and a stool. Every single item touched by my grandparents hands, well used, loved even. Soon enough the house will be empty of Lewis and Sohn and Johnstone traces. With laughter, the sound of traffic, the flutter of toilet paper by the heat register, the creak of stair to the basement, a glimpse in the mirror at the end of the hall seen and heard by other eyes, filled with other voices. More than sixty years of memories. My whole life, thus far, and I am at a loss. Say a little prayer for me…


Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything – anger, anxiety, or possessions – we cannot be free.

Thich Nhat Hanh



Be the one who nurtures and builds. Be the one who has an understanding and a forgiving heart, one who looks for the best in people. Leave people better than you found them.

Marvin Ashton



I don’t want realism. I want magic! Yes, yes, magic! I try to give that to people. I misrepresent things to them. I don’t tell the truth. I tell what ought to be the truth. And if that’s sinful, then let me be damned for it!

Tennessee Williams


Santa Fe

In celebration of the twenty-seven magical years since our first date (!!!) as well as the first road trip we ever took together, we spent the weekend in Santa Fe. Our first stop, of course, was La Choza, and then a stroll up the tracks to the Railyard on a sleepy Friday afternoon.

How’s that for a mural?!

First ever mansard roof sighting in Santa Fe. Fancy!

Hummingbird – which reminds me of one of my favorite books, The Hummingbird’s Daughter, which I first saw in Santa Fe.

A picture of a thousand words if ever there was.

Sweet nappers…

Juniper Beulah, tin roof style.

Enjoyed our anniversary dinner at La Boca – the grilled arugula salad one magical mess o’ lettuces, New Mexico grown pistachios, fennel, and golden raisins. The jamon iberico and Cava weren’t too shabby, either.

Not pictured, but most worthy of note, our dear friends Michael and Mary were in town (YAY!) and we met for a wildly wonderful lunch at Loyal Hound. Mac and Cheese with green chile and fried chicken and waffles the height of yumminess.

Also, I would be seriously remiss if I didn’t encourage the devouring of a carne adovada burrito at Tecolote. If they ask, get the bakery basket – you’ll overload on carbs, but will enjoy every morsel.

We never tire of adobe.

The Plaza, cheerfully lit.

First Presbyterian Church, 150 years old and ever so lovely.

Back at the Railyard for the hullaballoo of the Farmer’s and Winter markets. We enjoyed all manner of goodness (chiles, tarts, tortillas, jerkys, jams!) and friendly vibes.



Love this sky…

and this fabulous neon Zia. Eeek!

Sunday morning, we awoke to much, much needed snow, the whole of Santa Fe, and our route homeward beautifully blanketed.

The Treasures:

Turquoise Zia t-shirt from Marcy Street Cards + positively intoxicating sweet sage bundle from a kindly street vendor + Heidi’s Raspberry Red Chile Ginger jam + Santa Fe Spirits Atapino – a sip of the scent of New Mexico + pinon plantwater purchased at the fabulous Red River MercantileCasa Blanca Red Chile beef jerky – for lovers of dry, not at all sweet jerky, like me! + Zia pinon kola – the best kola EVER and an even better mission + An exquisitely crafted brooch bought at the Winter Market + Deeelicious chile powder, smoky and mild + Coyote America from my favorite Santa Fe book shop, Collected Works + Look closely, a tiny Raven (my spirit animal!) fetish from Keshi, carved by Calvert Bowannie + Beautiful woven table mat from the Five & Dime on the Plaza. Oh, Santa Fe, your fine purveyors and makers, my heart overflows…


« Older entries § Newer entries »