I have struggled these last few weeks to write this post. Not because pizza dough is scary. Nothing like that. More because I’m intimidated by writing this opening paragraph. I…
I arrived at work Monday to a sea of green. Most people were wearing green, sweaters or pants or dresses, with some sort of shamrock detailing. And there I was,…
The gearhead isn’t one for surprises. Usually. But on a quiet Sunday morning he announced casually, as if he were announcing the day’s weather, that he had probably sold my…
My go to sore throat tonic: hot buttered rum for one. As a kid, my favourite life saver flavour was butter rum, but the cloying candy version is a pale…
You know things are too hectic when you’re reclined in your dentist’s chair thinking, “Well, this is relaxing!” These last weeks, since the holidays really, it’s been too busy, too…
Onions cooking down in butter pull the gearhead to the kitchen on some invisible thread. It’s a path I liken to the mystery of bees buzzing toward the hearts of…
It was heart warming, especially after last week’s rant related to holiday commercialism, to be reminded about good community and small, but recurring moments and objects of beauty. Our tiny…
At our house, I’m responsible for making xmas morning happen for our children. The gearhead’s steadfast determinism to opt out of inflated consumerism [wife edits: except if car related] foists…
I have an extreme fear of public speaking that I have been working through over several years. This wasn’t always the case. When I was a kid, I used to…
Okay, I stole that title from the wonderful memoir written by one of my favourite food writers, Ruth Reichl. It’s just so apt, especially after last week’s post. We have…
Food by the Gearhead's Wife 