Gummy worms, Bloody Marys, and in-home karaoke

I have got to learn to take photographs. Like, for instance, of the gummy worm* in Jennifer Niesslein’s drink at a fancy outdoor porchy kind of tapas place in Charlottesville, where she so generously rounded up five, count ’em, five writers after hours during the Virginia Festival of the Book. Jennifer is the editor of…

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The ofrenda!

The ofrenda!  

On making an ofrenda and trying to be two places at once

I am an irresponsible blogger lately. My last post was a month ago, and I promised, swore, made an agreement with myself, choose your phrasing, to blog weekly. Keep up the correspondence, so to speak. Have an internet presence. I used to be so, so organized. Back when I worked as a production manager for…

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Saudade

You know how you hear a word that’s new to you and suddenly it’s everywhere? For me, that word is saudade. It’s Portuguese, and means a kind of deep longing. I read it yesterday for the first time, and remarked on it to myself, because I do that with new words, and then damn if…

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Birds don’t need milk and bread

The newspapers and media are hollering about stocking up on milk and bread, which leads me to wonder if people eat milk sandwiches. I don’t drink milk, and I have plenty of bread. I love bread, which is a downfall of mine. Too much bread and I am unattractive. However, I do shake the crumbs…

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The bookstore where I signed my name on the toilet door, the bookstore where I saw a bunch of my friends, and the bookstore where I met new ones and then went to Robert Johnson’s grave.

First things first. When you go to Avid Bookshop in Athens, Georgia (not if, but when) you might want to sign the door to the toilet, like this. Which is not the only reason visit Avid Bookshop, by any means. There are the books, which are delicious and highly hand-picked. And the booksellers, like Will…

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