fruit
There was this summer, somewhere between heartache and finding myself, that I spent lying in the grass, reading Harper Lee and everything J.D. Salinger has ever written - Franny & Zooey twice. Years before that, I spent the summer months playing baseball with my brothers, singing "Wild Thing" and trying to look just as cool as Charlie Sheen [...]
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There was always something extra. At the end of the meal, when dessert plates had been licked clean and the mugs of tea were no longer steaming, a little bag would invariably find its way to the table. The crinkle and crackle of the plastic alone attracted enough attention to draw everyone to the kitchen [...]
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Thomas and I went walking through Bruges this weekend. The sun was out, the sky was blue and the air was frosty ... the perfect day for wandering feet and a meandering mind. One that couldn't help but wonder how this came to be my city, and if it would ever really feel that way.
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I made 20 Galettes des Rois last weekend and forgot to put a bean in 16 of them. I went down to the cellar, but had no idea what I was looking for. I returned a bunch of empty bottles, and then forgot to ask for my refund at the register. I went to bed, and upon waking found that I'd forgotten to take out my contacts.
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My alarm goes off. Thomas grumbles. It is 6 am on a Sunday morning.
I get out of bed, find slippers and pajama pants, and head downstairs. I turn on the light, then the heating, the oven and the kettle. As I wait for the water to boil, I rinse my french press, discard the remains of the day before, and measure 40 grams of coarsely ground coffee. [...]
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In the summer of 2007, I took my brand new orange backpack to the airport and boarded a plane to New York. I was beyond excited. Nervous, too, because this would be a trip of many firsts. My first time making such a long journey by myself, my first time traveling with a group of strangers, my first road trip through the US, my first time camping.
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