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And a very merry

It’s merely the afternoon of Christmas Eve, and we are, incomprehensibly, done: presents are wrapped, cornbread is baked in preparation for tomorrow’s oyster dressing, gifts have been shipped and (nick-of-time) received, charity undertaken. I can’t believe there’s time for the luxury to write, to cut out more cookies with small floured hands, to lay with…

Still life with sweat

For fuck’s sake, summer has FINALLY arrived in Seattle in the form of 90-degree days and wading pools and SPF Infinity. The best sign? It’s arrived in the front yard: Grow, pretty pears! (But keep a low profile, lest the squirrels discover you and force me to haul out the shotgun. . .)

Tourists in our own town

Or at least that was the idea when, for a joint Mother’s Day/Michael’s birthday present, we enlisted Grammy and Papa for overnight girl-sitting and booked a room downtown at the W. We’d check in early, wander through the Market, do a little shopping, duck in somewhere for cocktails, languish over dinner at a hot new…


Given our largely improvisational, seat-of-the-pants approach to existence, Michael and I are surprisingly skilled at planning things: fun crap like parties and vacations, long-term projects like getting Amazon to throw some partner benefits my way, even bonerkillers like how to pay for large unexpected expenses. (And yes, Moses, I am looking at your bionic knee,…