My go-to grocers, Time Market and the Food Conspiracy, sell a lot of local produce, meat and prepared foods. This offers handy, tasty shortcuts for hot-weather cooking. The produce is fresher and surprisingly varied; the meat is luscious and better for you. I’ve been meaning to make bolognese sauce, but it’s frankly too hot to […]
Inglorion moves into his father’s house, and takes over the garden, bees and chickens. In theory, there’s a satisfying symmetry to this. Certainly Lucius seems unsurprised, and quietly agrees it’s for the best. In reality, Inglorion’s confronted with an immediate, practical task. The walls, ceiling and floor are all spattered and stained to various degrees. When […]
By mutual, tacit consent, Brutus and Inglorion settle into a casual master/apprentice arrangement. Inglorion knows little about farming and water harvesting in this climate; Brutus knows a lot. Though the older man rarely provides step-by-step lessons, or even explicit advice, he’s willing to let Inglorion shadow him as he tinkers with his cisterns and basins, […]
It’s full night when Inglorion walks back. It’s a sweet, cloudless evening. Brick and stone have begun to cool; the moon is waning. Inglorion can see again: The hesitant, frozen forms of rabbits crouching in the weeds; a handful of bats, flying irregular trajectories. A stray cat drops and rolls in the dirt, and eyes […]
The following morning, a package appears on the front porch. It’s wrapped in brown paper, secured with twine, and addressed to Inglorion in a bold, slanted hand. He opens it with trembling hands to find the first volume of Sir Richard Burton’s Thousand Nights and One Night. The paper and binding are stiff and fragile with age. […]
Now that there are two mouths to feed, Lucius sends Inglorion to buy a half-dozen pullets, saying, “Lots of people sell them around here, but I’d recommend this fellow Brutus. He sells a few from his flock every now and then, and I think you’ll find him interesting.” And so Inglorion walks a few miles […]
The cellar is lit by a single candle. It’s small — perhaps 10’ x 10’. Three of the four walls are lined with shelves stocked with canned food. There are sacks of potatoes and onions half-buried in one corner. Lavinia, Camilla and Claudius have burrowed down among the potatoes. Valerius is stretched out on the […]
8/25/17— I should admit — at least in these pages — that I have come to care for Tereus: A man who revolted, angered and disgusted me — someone whom I hated. There are times when I still hate him, when his coldness and lack of empathy surprise and anger me. I’ve always respected his […]
The plague continues. I’ve manage to arrange my life in ways that are tolerable, even pleasant. Every morning, I sing along with “Wonderful,” and with Johnny Cash’s cover of “Hurt.” Every evening I cook and listen to Andrew Cuomo talk about contact tracing and love and duty. I’ve worked half-time in the lab for weeks without […]
7/15/17— Did I say the labor was unremitting? I had no idea. Now, in midsummer, all intellectual labor has ended, and leisure is a fond memory. We’re in the thick of manual labor, back-breaking at times. I have been canning for days on end, drawing water and chopping wood, standing for hours on end over […]
