My dad sits in a wooden rocking chair in front of the fireplace. He’s wearing a wool sweater, warming his toes in the heat of the fire, and cradling my youngest niece who sleeps quietly on his shoulder. Picture books are strewn across the window seats and floor of our big open living room, which looks out over the ponds and the pastures and forest beyond. Dusk is falling in soft shadowy shades across the farm. Over in the kitchen, I lean against the edge of the countertop with one of my sisters. My mom stands across from us, making pizza for dinner.Read More
Right on cue, winter has arrived. Thanksgiving day was bitingly cold. “They can’t hold a parade in this wind!'“ I thought as I woke up Thursday morning in New York City, struggling to take a quick jog along the Hudson River before starting our drive home to the farm. But of course they did, and of course people lined up with their folding chairs and thermoses of hot chocolate and unflaggingly high spirits because it is holiday season, exclamation point, and I take great comfort in their enthusiasm.Read More
Full disclosure: My birthday is March 20, and you’re welcome to bake me a cake if you like. I accept vanilla with seven-minute frosting, raspberry mousse layer cake, and anything with passionfruit.
As it is months away from the blessed event, you might say: “Po, really no need to be making birthday cake anything. Just stick with the calendar and lean into fall and bake pumpkin…everything.”Read More
A recent post on Cup of Jo talked about simple pleasures: small things that light you up, make you feel comfortable, bring you joy. Her list included kettle chips, getting into clean sheets after shaving your legs, and the grassy waves at Storm King.
The comment section on the post (which numbers over 500!) is beautiful and exceptional and so joy-inducing in and of itself that I’ve promised myself to return to read every single one, bit by bit, whenever I’m in need of a pick-me-up (or just a reminder that life is just brimming with the possibility of beauty at every turn, around every corner).Read More
You don’t need me to remind you that being stuck in an airport for over 6 hours is not a desirable way to spend a day, but I’m here to tell you anyway. I’ve been in Portland, Maine for the past two days; instead of flying out as planned, thunderstorms kept us from leaving. I waited patiently as they cancelled flights, one by one, to nearby destinations. The blinking notice board at my gate kept refreshing: 30 minutes late, one hour late, two, two and a half, back to one, back to two, and so on. At each update, I clutched my crumpled boarding pass, debating whether to cut my losses and at least make something of the day. The flight attendants swore our flight would leave, and promising signs kept happening (bags loading, an order for jet fuel placed, pilots entering the cockpit). Finally—nearly 7 hours after I got to the airport—we started boarding, only to see the sign at the gate suddenly flash with red CANCELLED letters halfway through zone 1 boarding.Read More