Things I want to make as soon as I have time:
these chocolate sour cherry cookies
black olive cookies
tomato cobbler with gruyere crust
steamed buns

I woke up with one line in my head, one that I repeated over and over, in my dream: "Give me your stimulus plan, and I will give you pizza. Stimulus plan; pizza."

From September 21, 2011

This morning, I interviewed Sister Francis Gerard Kress, a 96-year-old environmental activist who has been a nun for 70 years. She said her nickname was "TM," or "troublemaker." She told me she knew she wanted to be a nun as early as age 7.

From September 21, 2011

From September 21, 2011

From September 21, 2011

From September 21, 2011

This week, I interviewed a public health grad student, a former prison teacher, and an artist who draws with typewriters. Next week: a nun/environmental activist. Not a bad life.

From September 11, 2011

From September 11, 2011

From September 11, 2011

9/11. I was by myself on Lake Michigan, that day. I didn't get television reception and couldn't use the dial-up internet. I drove to the closest bar and watched the television with the only other customer, a man who repaired washing machines for Whirlpool, Walt. That afternoon, I carried on with my interviews at a saw mill in Michigan. The owners were talking about Nostradamus, and I missed my home and friends, terribly. I don't think I touched anyone or hugged anyone for another week or two. I went to see my parents on one of the Jewish holidays, then returned back to my perch, alone. Juno called me and said "Come home. That doesn't sound like a good scene." Anne played that Paul Simon song that made me cry. I listened to it over and over.

From September 11, 2011

From September 11, 2011

From September 11, 2011

From September 11, 2011

From September 11, 2011

Our car caught on fire. We pulled over to the side of the road on Labor Day weekend, into this woman's driveway. She pointed to her neighbor's yard and said his garage was a Mexican grocery store. Sure enough, it was. I bought tortilla chips and tried not to cry while missing Monica and Katrina's wedding.

From September 11, 2011

Here's her fiancé. Robin calls that hat a fedora, but I thought it was a wizard hat. They were very concerned about us, while we waited for AAA in the rain. It took three hours. We hopped a train 5 hours later, and then the train stopped for a tornado.
The couple pulled tomatoes out of their garden for us and said that humans should treat each other that way. That even insects should be treated well.

Peter Campion's poem

HAPPINESS
The feeling in the chest is red: eruption spreading for whatever cause
as sunlight in the sycamores drains down to clearish orange.
And towns beyond the hills. And friends there. And my dead.

All possible: as if loose slivers from a life (blood shriek and joy shriek
and evenings rainbows rose by the rusted bridge in Bethel and this
warmth circling my rib cage now. . . o let me hold this) could be held.

From September 3, 2011

From September 3, 2011

From September 3, 2011

From September 2, 2011

From September 2, 2011