When I arrived at the racetrack, the Gearhead’s car was marooned on the tarmac, a red, black and yellow beacon signaling—unmistakable—abandonment. In the moment it took to register the empty…
I know. One should be wary of maniacal grins. But they are intriguing. There’s something else there, buried beneath. You know you’re going to have a fun time, pulled round…
Picture this: The wife’s on one of those game shows. Monty Hall has just revealed the mystery behind door number one …. A New Car!!!! The camera zooms in for…
“My colleague thinks your blog is boring” This didn’t surprise me. Not really. The Gearhead had just returned from a business trip that, to my mind, was far too short.…
“Are you alright?” The Gearhead had just turned toward me as I pulled the front door closed. We were leaving to go to a friend’s house for dinner. He had…
Last post cut to the bone. The Gearhead is licking his wounds, but he’s from good strong stock. He can take it. About stock, though, not taking stock, good grief,…
“why does dad always get to pick the Christmas tree?” We were walking through the woods, following the Gearhead. He was wading through scrub grass, well-dusted with snow. He carried…
The Gearhead has been remarkably behaved and ordinary of late, leaving me little opportunity to derive inspiration for this blog. [wife edits: that’s right, it’s his fault]. In part, this…
“where’s the meat?!” I wonder sometimes if the Gearhead asks this question as a form of ritual, you know, to get in touch with his Neanderthal roots. For a split…
“what smells?!” Sundays I cook double… in order to negotiate a week of kids extracurricular activities, a full time job, being a member on two different community food initiatives (three…
Food by the Gearhead's Wife 