the three c’s of granola.

It was getting out of control. For the past few months, I had been voraciously eating granola, that I’d been buying at the grocery store.  Sacrilege.  But wait, it had a cute name! – it was called, “Love Crunch.”  But more importantly, it contained chocolate.  Oops!  Details. The tipping point was when Longer Legs raised …

a poultice of sorts.

When I was little, I was obsessed with the Laura Ingalls Wilder books, and the romanticized life of a settler: learning how to live off the land, to make do with what you had, and to be self-sufficient.  It was a far cry from the concrete-laden cityscape that I traversed in my red-and-white Keds sneakers, …

finding solace in steam.

The lone wolf days of winter are officially here. Cue desolate wailing. Actually, I don’t mind the cold temperatures.  It inspires a change in rhythm, a natural contraction after the languid, loose feeling of summer: the city gets quieter, the snow muffles all sounds (never mind the two scarves and toque and parka hood covering …