I like looking forward to the staples in my life, and one of them have been apple picking with The Teenager’s best friend and family. We began as neighbors, in 2002, and over the years, myself and the matriarch of the family, Maren, have become best of friends as well. It is Maren who showed me how to embrace the kitchen—it has been her de facto office. In her inner sanctum, I’ve watched her knead bread and stir a fry and turn nothing into deliciousity (new word for you, folks). She’s shown me how easy it is to be seamless before a stove. Other things too: sitting down for a meal at set hours allowed for the people who entered her home the comfort of engaging conversation, of listening to others, of being a part of this family. I learned about enrolling my toddler into school from watching Maren go through it, and later, middle school and high school and now college. I learned how kind a neighbor can be, and how deep that goes. The apple picking jaunt began possibly as a lark when our daughters were in elementary school, the idea of spending a weekend doing something fun. It’s turned out to be the anchoring event of early Fall for us, something we hone in on–datewise–as soon as September rolls around. What weekend shall we go apple picking? And as our daughters have become teenagers, choosing that time has become a precarious balance of timing–their schedules and Mother Nature’s. I have oodles of photos of all of us holding apples off the vine, year after year. This year in particular is bittersweet as the eldest daughter and also The Teenager’s best friend heads off to college. This is possible our last year our two families get to enjoy being together for the day, looking for that sublime red delicious. And so, I left my phone apparatus at home for the day as we set off to Och’s Orchard in Warwick. Armed only with my camera and a copy of Earth Hates Me. Because for one afternoon, I got to be with my family of friends. How lucky am I?
Maxine Waters: “When I filed, the women’s movement moved in to help me. The white women came from the west side [of Los Angeles]. And we had to figure out how to run without a lot of money. It was a time of gardens. Everybody was getting interested in raising their food and being more nutrition conscious.”
Lillian Ross: “I like ’em fresh!”
Selma Hayek raises money for those in Mexico.
Women who cheat (in terms of marriage, not their SAT test.)
Power women. Or women who make a lot of money for themselves and their companies.
In this week’s Lady Parts, Stacy Conde wants you to love the skin you’re in. Preach.
I talk a lot about younger men but what about older men.
And now have a laugh with Elayne Boosler.