Monthly Archives: November 2016

The Pie I Didn’t Bake

It’s that time of year again — and I’m re-running this post, which first appeared as an essay in the East Bay Express 20 years ago. My thoughts are with all those who suffer from addiction this Thanksgiving, and with those who love them. ** A week before Thanksgiving, and I’m making a list. Canned pumpkin. Evaporated milk. Nutmeg, allspice, and – after double-checking the cupboard – cinnamon: spices I won’t use again until next year. I flip through The Joy of Cooking to a page stained with flour and butter, and after reviewing Basic Pie Crust, lift the sack … Continue reading

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Morning After

I started to write this morning about the shock and disappointment and fear that I, and so many people around me, feel. I started to write about the weird quiet when I awoke this a.m., the way people looked at each other on the bus — with kindness, like after 9/11, but also with a jittery attention to the screamer on the street, the conspiracy theorist speaking too loudly to ignore — the way my office feels like a morgue. I started to write about how I grew up feeling proud of my country, and how I still get misty-eyed … Continue reading

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