Over and over, I hear stories like Beth Clark’s. Her kids had flown the nest, she had extra time on her hands, and she craved a project. A sizable endeavor she could sink her teeth and energy into. And so, this dynamo started an Alabama olive farm.
Every few months, I hear a THUMP THUMP against the side of my 13th-story window. I pull back the drape and wave to the man (I’ve yet to see a woman!) dangling from the side of my building. He cleans and swipes, pausing to wave back, smile, and pose for a photo. “High-rise window cleaners see some crazy stuff,” says Cody Durham. “And, believe me, it’s hard not to look.”
On a recent flight, I flipped through a copy of Country Living magazine and came across a column called Everyday Heirlooms. The issue featured a stunning photograph of some well-loved L.L. Bean boots that looked like they’d experienced an adventure or two. The accompanying story intrigued me. And that’s how I discovered Shana Novak, aka The Heirloomist.
When it’s just the two of us for dinner on a weekend night—or a holiday—I often pull out pretty dishes, paper mats, and delicate stemware and set a festive table. Fun place settings elevate the specialness of an ordinary Friday or Saturday evening. “Because,” according to Angie Hester Cook, “life is a celebration.”
I’m hooked on HBO’s The Gilded Age. I adore peeking into the late 1800s and the opulent lives of America’s shipping, railroad, and coal mining magnates. I love the history, fashion, architecture, and those over-the-top homes.
Many of the industrial tycoons and their families lived in New York City. But for the summer season—all six weeks of it—they packed up their trunks and gowns and escaped to their “cottages” in Newport, Rhode Island.
In 2009, when Rachel Marks and her husband married, the young Jewish couple struggled to find the perfect ready-made ketubah. “There weren’t many options back then, and the artwork was more traditional than we wanted,” says Rachel. So, the trained landscape painter designed a ketubah as a keepsake of their special day.
Hassan Sharaff had “no gardening experience whatsoever” when he and his dad built a greenhouse in their suburban New York backyard. While he experimented—on a small scale—with growing crops in water, he researched hydroponic farming and developed his business plan.
Years ago, sandcastle-building kids in Sunset Beach, North Carolina nicknamed Hunter Gibbes. His moniker? The Maze Man. A celebrity in this part of the world, Hunter is a big part of the Brunswick Islands’—a chain of five barrier islands—charm.
Years ago, it seemed easier to shed an extra pound or two when the bathroom scale numbers crept up, or the jeans grew harder to zip. I’d cut back on snacks and sweets, and the weight would fall off. Ha! Not any more. When those excess pounds latch on, they do not want to leave—no matter how hard I try.
For decades, David Sipress’ cartoons, depicting what most people think and laugh and worry about, appeared in “almost every magazine and publication.” Except The New Yorker. He “couldn’t crack the tower on the hill.”
In The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner, the main character joins a mudlarking tour in London. She discovers a bottle along the shoreline, etched with a bear, and sets out to determine its provenance. I loved the novel and also the idea of scouring the River Thames for historical artifacts.
When I spoke with Alexandra Mosca, I learned a new word. Taphophile— one intrigued with gravestones, cemeteries, and the art and history that goes along with them.
Life can change in an instant. The death of a husband, no matter how strong or capable the surviving spouse, leaves us shocked and overwhelmed and incapable of putting one foot in front of the other. Especially when young children are involved. David Doyle, and his wife, Anita, know this first hand.
The Orchid Series
A collection of interviews featuring inspiring women over 75 years young. Curious, engaged, active, interesting. The sort of woman I want to be when I grow up!
Decades ago—when Marda Stoliar was much younger—women wore heels and dresses. Everywhere. As hard as it is to imagine now, women’s sneakers did not exist.
Last November, Katie and Greg grew restless and bored. With colder days, a raging pandemic, early darkness, and a one-year-old, each day mimicked the one before. They’d fallen into a rut.
“You’ve got to let it go,” Mikey Hoag’s husband said to her. Mikey learned Bill Gates’ father and uncle had been stricken with Alzheimer’s. For two years, she emailed power points and statistics and information to the tech mogul, convinced Mr. Gates would want to join her movement to fund Alzheimer’s research.
Chris Walsh grew up, and still lives, on Long Island. As a teenager, he enjoyed fashion and style, but he didn’t embrace it in the conservative environment where he lived. He chose not to call attention to his preferences and the clothes he longed to wear. “I wanted to blend in,” said Chris.
Marilee Nelson did not intend to found and build a toxin-free home cleaning company.
When I visited my young granddaughter (and her parents!), her simple hand movement declared an end to her dinner. All done. And bath time. And observing the gazelles at the zoo. A different gesture demanded more—strawberries, milk, time in the pool, elephants. When my boys were infants and toddlers, baby sign was not “a thing.” Kristen Morita is a Washington state speech pathologist and mom to two young daughters. She works with
Cindy Burnett and I connected through our shared love of books. I only wish I’d met her when I lived in Houston for all those years. Anyway, whether I’m scrolling her social media posts, reading her book columns, or listening to her podcast, Cindy is a go-to source for book opinions and recommendations.
