Hooray For Molly !

Last Night I Curled Up

With The First Thirty Pages.

Got up This Morning

and Drooled my way thru

Thirty More.

YUM

Can't wait to try "calming" myself on

Banana Bread with Chocolate Chips and Ginger.

What a Delight !

Her Softly Told Stories, Her Wonderful Recipes.

Sharing Her Life.

Sharing Love.

...I started a blog called Orangette, a space where I could store all my recipes and the long-winded tales that spun from them. I named it for one of my favorite chocolate confections — a strip of candied orange peel dipped in dark chocolate — and started to fill it with my favorite people, places, and meals.


I wanted a space to write about food. That's all, really. But what I got was something much better. I got an excuse for long afternoons at the stove, and for tearing through bags of flour and sugar faster than should be allowed by state law. I got a place to tell my stories and a crowd of people who, much to my surprise, seemed eager to listen and share. What started as a lonely endeavor came to feel like a conversation: a place where like-minded people could swap recipes and dinner plans, a kind of trading post where cakes and chickpeas are perfectly valid currency. I'm not the only one, I learned, who believes that the kitchen, and the food that comes from it, is where everything begins. What started as a simple love for food grew to have a life of its own — and a life that, in turn, has changed mine.


Now, of course, all this is not to say that my kitchen is full of sunshine and puppies and sweet-smelling flowers that never wilt. When I cook, there's often a lot of cursing. I've made soups that tasted like absolutely nothing, as though the flavors had miraculously united to form a perfect zero sum. I once charred a pork loin so thoroughly that it looked like a tree stump after a forest fire. I have eaten my fair share of peanut butter and jelly and two-dollar beans and rice from the taqueria down the street. But I still believe in paying attention to those meals, no matter how fast or frustrating. I believe in what they can show me about the place where I live, about the people around me, and about who I want to be. That, to me, is the "meat" of food. That's what feeds me — why I cook and why I write.


That's why this book is called A Homemade Life. Because, in a sense, that's what we're building — you, me, all of us who like to stir and whisk — in the kitchen and at the table. In the simple acts of cooking and eating, we are creating and continuing the stories that are our lives.

~Molly Wizenberg

He's He-errrre !

Wow He's Here.

In My Own Backyard

...Still I Marvel

A President I Can Be

Proud Of

He's on the freeway here NOW

on his way to see The Pomona Students.


Only This Morning

I heard bits of this video they made

and was Moved To Tears.


Then, to Know That

He Took the Time

To Go See Them

To Actually WATCH the Video

To Go Say

SOMEONE IS LISTENING


Painfully Aware

That this is going on

In My Own Backyard.

"I am listening. We are listening. America is listening ... And we are not going to rest until your parents can keep their jobs, your families can keep their homes, and you can focus on what you should be focusing on: your own education."


So Much To Do

So Much !

I can't help it

A little voice whispers

"How ?"

" I sure Hope So"

"When ?"

"Please Be Soon"

Jury Duty in L.A.-L.A. Land

You get up , take the train downtown.

It's only twenty miles

but it would take you over an hour

and then drive you insane to find parking.

Maybe you stop at Union Station

and Grab Coffee & a Bagel

before hoofing it down two blocks to

The Courthouse.

Coming out of the elevator

you run smack dab into

a small crazy man named Phil Spector

and then as you walk down the hall

you pass Chris Brown...

You are on your way thru one of two metal detector stations

where you are at this point on auto pilot

as you remove your belt , raise your arms and turn around

all in one smooth dance movement.

You are one of forty five people waiting to be interviewed by the judge

and on the first day, wait thru thirty of these

Tears and Desperate Performances

Until They Begin To

Bore you

As one more person explains why

they cannot possibly serve

on this case.


You look up at the ceiling and at the walls

Of the Old Courthouse

Feeling all of the broken energy.

Heavy weight of folks all around

With their problems and anxieties.

Years of it must have seeped in to the core of this building

and no space clearing act of any kind

could probably ever

remove the ghost of events that have taken place here.

The jail is one floor beneath you.

The prisoner is chained across the room from you.

It's not a civil case.

It's bigger than that.

It will be weighty and real.

Not like sitting at home with Law & Order

Figuring out the clues as the script dictates them to you.

No, this is going to be Gritty Business

and No One Wants To be in on it.


Your girlfriend picks you up at the train station that evening.

Finds you holding out a bag of tacos you grabbed to share for dinner

and you are tired

and quiet.


You find that

The taxes you still need to finish working on

and the termites you discovered a few days ago

that are eating up the kitchen even now...

and those annoying squeaky brakes that developed on your car

These Are All

Nice Easy Problems to Arrive Home to.

Falling For Suzi Blu

And Gigi Too

Thanks Holly !
You're Right - She's Cool !

*****************
CLiCk
Here
For Workshops
And Fun
And M O R E
Suzi Blu

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