Is it still considered denial or ignorance if you have accepted the reality of the situation but choose to opt out of it for your own self-preservation? I have always prided myself on being a practical person, and staying on top of E V E R Y update doesn’t seem very productive. So I give myself 30 minutes on Twitter, NPR, and the NY Times in the morning to get the latest and then try to move on with my day.
It’s not a perfect system — my brain will continue to weave in and out of anxiety throughout the day — but it works for me. I hope that wherever you are, you’re hanging in there and if any of my silly thoughts or copied and pasted links can help you escape a little, then I’ve done my job.
I received pasta attachments for my Kitchenaid stand mixer as a birthday present, so I plan on using this dough recipe to make agnolotti filled with with butternut squash and ricotta. Wish me luck!
I’ll start with that and then maybe one day I’ll work up the nerve to make my own ramen noodles from scratch.
Honest to god, I thought it was common knowledge that graham crackers were invented by a guy to deter people from having sex. I am sorry to all my friends in the group chat for scandalizing them.
Stay far away from Twitter if you can, but if you must be on it, I recommend spending all of your time with @BootstrapCook, whose #JackMonroesLockdownLarder is filled with ingenious ingredient substitutes and recipes.
“Thanks, but not for me right now.” You don’t have to join every Zoom meeting or take every phone call. (Though obviously if it’s for work, you should!)
Danusha Laméris, poetess divine, your timeless poem is never not relevant:
Small Kindnesses by Danusha Laméris
I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk
down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs to let you by.
Or how strangers still say “bless you”
when someone sneezes, a leftover
from the Bubonic plague. “Don’t die,” we are saying.
And sometimes, when you spill lemons
from your grocery bag, someone else will help you
pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other.
We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,
and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile
at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress
to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,
and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.
We have so little of each other, now. So far
from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.
What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these
fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here,
have my seat,” “Go ahead — you first,” “I like your hat.”
Speaking of kindness to each other, don’t forget about being kind to yourself. It may feel like your worries pale in comparison to what others are having to deal with, but they are still valid. Give yourself time to sit with those feelings. Let them wash over you and then carry on when you are ready.
Also you’re welcome:
“Can’t spell quarantine without u r a q t.” - M’s entry to the Dad Jokes Hall of Fame for your consideration.