Wee soda bread…
- The Fabulous Forgotten Life of Vita Sackville-West [THE PARIS REVIEW]
- Re-Covered: A Black Female Beat Novel from the Sixties [THE PARIS REVIEW]
- Gerda Taro. The Girl with the Leica [DAILY ART MAGAZINE]
- A Feast of Flowers [THE CUT]
My momma’s birthday is today! We celebrated it last night with a tasty meal at home. I try to make those I love a special dessert for their special day. Our resources and mobility are limited these days, obviously. Because of this, I needed to make something with ingredients I had at home. I decided that it was finally time to make Emily Dickinson’s coconut cake. It’s been on my radar for at least 12 years. No joke.
I used this post as my guide. Like that blogger, I mixed the cake by hand.
Since this was for my mom’s birthday, I embellished the cake a bit by adding a blueberry glaze* before topping it with walnuts and confectioners’ sugar.
The cake itself is moist, flavorful, and not overly sweet. Perfect with a cup of tea.
*For the glaze, I added approximately 3/4 cup blueberries and 1 cup of confectioners’ sugar to a blender and mixed it until it was smooth.
“Hold dear to your parents for it is a scary and confusing world without them.”–Emily Dickinson
Happy birthday, mom! I love you.
I hope you are all well during these difficult, uncertain times. Have a great weekend.
“Elegance is elimination.”–Balenciaga
This 85-year-old photograph of New Zealand writer Ngaio Marsh proves that elegance, coziness, and individuality can be as stylish as anything out of the pages of a 21st-century fashion magazine.
Embellishments are minimal: an eccentric shoulder, a few buttons, an indifferently tilted hat, a bit of pattern and texture here or there.
Clean lines. Confidence.
She is, more than anything, mysterious.
Lady Reading Poetry by Ishibashi Kazunori (1906):
Here’s the recipe I use, if you’re interested. I love it because, in addition to being delicious, this recipe strikes what I consider to be a perfect balance: It’s involved enough to make you feel accomplished but easy enough to not dominate your entire day. Bonus: If you love toast, then this is definitely the right bread for you!
My poem is featured on Silver Birch Press! Check it out.
Ajar is a sacred word
by Alicia Austen
a sacred word
that it is necessary to be noncommittal
where breezes enter through open orifices
and private sounds
above empty sidewalks
from my armored entry,
I close my eyes
in order to picture what I do not see—
people walking past
a mass of
flickering in sunlight
Is this why we–
consecrate the mundane?
with special powers
it shines like
If a neighborhood is an entity—
what is humanity,
but a movie projected at the wrong speed
one step ahead
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I write things as I see them, which means avoiding the literal at all costs while embracing oddness, layers, and complexity. My goal is to…
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