I’m sitting in the family room, my head against the back of the couch, my legs stretched out under the coffee table, staring at the ceiling. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. My golden doodle, Huckleberry, barks, bringing me out of my trance. Continue reading
Have you noticed how positive social media has been about the whole self-quarantine, shelter-in-place, social-distancing thing? Everyone’s all:Continue reading
As written in the headline, my resolution for the coming year is to find… wait. Dammit! I did it again.
The babies aren’t dead. To be clear, they’re not exactly alive, either, and never were. But they’re certainly not dead. They’re just naked. I don’t know why I always refer to them as dead babies rather than naked babies. Continue reading
My 1500-miles-away daughter said to me recently: “You should write a post about me. And about how school is hard. And about how adulting is hard.” And my first thought was, “Oh, sweets, it gets so much harder.”
This is a weird time. It’s sad and scary. It’s colorful and creative. It’s overwhelming and enlightening and stimulating and freeing. And exhausting – mustn’t forget exhausting.
My daughter left for college last month. She is a couple thousand miles away, and let me tell you, it’s just weird. It’s a big deal, but not necessarily in the way I thought it was going to be.
Being the cooking superstar that I most definitely am not, I was as surprised as anyone when I recently discovered the joy of making my own croutons for salads. Unfortunately (like always, when it comes to cooking), I’ve stumbled upon some major obstacles.
How hard can it be to make a salad, you ask? Here, I offer two exhibits from the Nastu household Crouton Conflict.
Exhibit A. “You Should Have…”
I go to the store and buy a delicious-looking loaf of French bread, crusty on the outside, soft on the inside. I’m planning to let it get stale so I can make croutons the next day. Continue reading
I had nothing to say today. So I was trying to write about how I had nothing to write about when – ta da! – my brain did what it does best. That is, it got distracted and wandered off without supervision and got into trouble. So now I have something to write about after all, which is great even though dinner is ruined.