A snowy week in February concludes, and another one begins. Such is our slow trudge through the winter of 2021, when everything feels like some purgatorial space of in-between uncertainty. That seems to be a theme here, when I teeter on decisions that once felt sure and simple. Even a trip to the grocery store is fraught with debate and internal dialogue, and lately I’ve been foregoing the trips and staying in, hunkering down with a book on the conversation couch or snuggling into the corner of the basement sectional, idly flipping through television channels and not watching much of anything. So goes winter… Another week is ahead, one that contains Valentine’s Day, whatever that might mean this year. If history is any indication, it means snow – lots of snow… so on with this pre-red recap.
The words of Shirley Chisholm.
Being the conductor of your own orchestra.
A gratuitous Gus Kenworthy glimpse.
The words of Claudette Colvin.
Emanating warmth on the floor of winter.
The return of some glorious beefcake: Ben Cohen.
My virgin attempt at making Filipino leche flan.
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