Actually, Fashion Week began last Thursday, a full four days ago – the fact that I am just catching on is proof enough of just how unfashionable I am, here in unfashionable Boston.
Husband Steve is cavorting with his brothers in the Basque motherland. My older child, a college junior, is leading a group of incoming freshmen on a kayaking expedition in the glorious Pacific Northwest. Child…
A few weeks ago, I posted a blog entry ("Whitey Bulger in the Garden") in which I enthused, rather smugly, about the many strategies I have employed to keep…
Probably my favorite song from "Songs of Domestic Bliss" -- and now with a video, in case you're one of those people who prefers to watch your music rather than just listening. Or you can just listen, on the Music…
Anyone who is easily offended by off-color language may want to skip today's post. The topic invites, even demands, profanity. I am talking, of course, about organic gardening.
I have been gardening, and gardening organically, for the better part of…
My first album, “Songs of Domestic Bliss,” sold like hotcakes. I can say that because nobody, in 2013, buys hotcakes; who even knows what hotcakes are? In the final tally, gross…