Some of my favorite turnips have fallen off the truck, and I'm glad you're still here.
On the crushing weight of the last year — and on letting go.
In case you, like me, still sense some nihilism around the edges of the crocuses.
Spring is a long con, baby.
A promise that spring is coming.
But we will. I promise, we will.
Take care while the credits roll, dear friends.
The antidote to repetition is repetition? Look, I don’t know either, man. Just make some soup.
On Stew, Rest, and Recovery
It’s hard to know how to protect people right now.
How are YOU holding up?
