The Hartwells
Page 4 of 69. Newest first.
Continuing
Margaret came over this afternoon with a tin of those sesame cookies she always brings — the ones I keep telling myself I’ll only eat two...
Eight in the morning on a Sunday and I am sitting in the middle of my living room floor surrounded by archival boxes like I am the main c...
Three days of feeding a starter I was convinced I had already killed, and somehow a loaf came out of my oven this afternoon. Not a beauti...
My hair has been in a ponytail or a bun for approximately eleven of the last fourteen days. Nursing shifts, the archive project spread ac...
The AC situation is more or less resolved — the building finally sent someone, there was a part, there was a delay, there was a second pa...
Ninety-four degrees outside and our building’s idea of air conditioning is ‘the suggestion of a breeze if you stand in front of the fan a...
Margaret gave me three names two weeks ago. Three families. Three contact sheets with phone numbers and brief notes in her tidy handwriti...
Carmen came over to use the blender. That’s it. That’s the whole premise. We’ve been doing post-run smoothies at the apartment since spri...
The starter has been sitting on the counter for six days and I have been — wait, no. I cannot open like that. That was literally a recent...
June feels like the right time to look back at February. I don’t know why — maybe it’s the distance, or the fact that the apartment is wa...
