Having one of those “what am I even good at? anything? am I good at one single thing that I ever do? should I just walk straight into the bonfire and not look back?” days. Anyway, I made this NYT potato, sage & lemon zest focaccia yesterday and it turned out pretty well, so maybe I’m ok at that.

15yo placed* this chip clip on Juniper’s head as a tiny hat and he requested that I show all of you *it’s important for you all to know that it is not clipped into her fur or anything, it’s just resting on top of her beautiful noggin

15yo and I went to a PD day screening of Billy Elliot today and here are his thoughts: - it was cool that they played The Clash - it was cool that Billy’s dad loved him so much that he was willing to be a scab (but good that he didn’t go through with it) - it sucked that adult Billy lost his accent

If you need me, I’ll be out in the herb garden with my beer and cheese

A fantastic example of “every accusation is a confession” (Also, I have never once used AI, all dumb ideas in my articles are my own)

Hey! I wrote about Malta's rise as a top LGBTQ+ destination from my Maltese-Canadian perspective. It's been a delightful surprise & I dig into Malta's evolution from a pious, very Catholic place, being terrified going to my first Maltese gay bar, to the welcoming place it is today. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

“Then Elinor married a broke, spineless dude who flirted with her while he was secretly engaged to someone else, and Marianne married a humourless man described as ‘not handsome’ who was also more than twice her age, and they all lived happily ever after, I guess.”

Libertine is such a pleasing word, not least because it sounds like a portmanteau of liberty and saltine (two pleasing things)

This is a fantastic thread.

I know Stephen Colbert is punching the air and screaming right now

It’s like this article was written with me specifically in mind as their target audience. A pilgrimage! On Sardinia! That ends with eating the rarest type of pasta in the world! Like, come on.

I tremendously dislike the substack platform for several reasons, but I have an account so I can subscribe to/support people I like. Anyway, one really petty reason I have for disliking it is that substack promotes my account (to which I DON’T POST) to other people, and then they subscribe to me 1/2

I’ve been thinking a lot about this in part because I’ve been thinking about how fiction (books in particular) teach kids about experiences the real world. I didn’t lose anyone close to me until I was in my late teens, but the books I’d read had prepared me for what it might be like.

Was chatting about this during an interview with an author, but it was interesting enough that I’d like to open up the question to all of you: what’s the first literary/fictional death that made an impression on you as a kid? Mine has to be poor old Mary Lennox’s family in The Secret Garden.

Someone sent me an incredibly nice email about a profile that I wrote, and it’s amazing how these things can buoy you. I was having a really crummy week (month? season? year?) and this email made me think, “huh, maybe I’m not terrible at what I do”. Maybe!!!

Hi friends! I am looking for freelance writing & editing work. Journalism-wise, my beats tend to be religion/disability/parenting and, as one editor put it, “quirky historical essays”. I also have experience writing/editing copy for websites and social media. Hit me up at [email protected]

Out of horror, beauty. A gorgeous essay by @annetheriault.bsky.social about mental health care that every country should want to emulate.

“The family-care program isn’t miraculous; it is as profoundly human as Dymphna’s life story. It’s proof of how well we can love each other when we practise radical acceptance.” @annetheriault.bsky.social on the 700-year-old care culture for mental illness in Geel. broadview.org/geel-belgium...

Those Gregorian chants are fine and all, but when it comes to sacred music, nothing beats Eleanor Farjeon’s Morning Has Broken hummed in a 5 am garden in the weeks around the summer solstice

GO HABS GO, BITCH* *Apologies to Buffalo, who I love for being worthy adversaries and always singing O Canada before their games regardless of whether they’re playing a Canadian team

15yo’s dream vacation is visiting all of the castles from Secrets of Great British Castles in their episode order Me: maybe you can do it on your honeymoon 15yo: I doubt my future wife would like that Me: if she’s marrying you, she might 15yo, philosophically: true, but maybe not for our honeymoon

He’s supposed to be taking a shower

Sorry! I can’t go out tonight, I have to message everyone I’ve ever known to ask if they’re mad at me

I went through this weird period many years ago (before 15yo was even a gleam in my eye) where I would have panic attacks whenever I went to the movies. Except I didn’t know they were panic attacks, I was just like “huh, that’s weird that whenever I see a movie I get really hot & shaky & nauseous”

Where (and I cannot stress this enough) did my baby go

Happy Feast of Saint Dymphna, the patron saint of (among other things) those suffering from mental illness. She is, as always, my girl. Hard to believe that seven years ago today I was in Belgium attending her special festivities in Geel while working on a story about her & her incredible legacy.

When I first saw the trailer for The Sheep Detectives, I thought it looked silly and juvenile. Then I read a bunch of amazing reviews and decided I wanted to see it. This week, my whole family went, including 15yo and my mom. It was great, I cried thrice, everyone loved it. An actual family movie.

15yo: Three of the four major powers involved in WWI were ruled by grandsons of Queen Victoria. So, when you think about it, that war was basically a messed up family reunion.

I’m in the bad place (day 27 of my cycle)

15yo made me a Mother’s Day card with a picture of my cat Juniper in it

On an unrelated note, 15yo would like to cheer for a UK football team but he doesn’t know which one & is coasting on vibes alone. He thinks maybe Arsenal since a) he’s been to London and b) he likes cannons, but he could possibly go for Bristol because they have funny cheers. He’d appreciate input.

97% of the lapsed Catholics I know are like “yeah, I don’t believe in God, but obviously I fuck with [the Virgin Mary/St Anthony/the Infant of Prague/some other saint]”

Reason #273 for having a PMS cry today: I thought about how they named a Staten Island Ferry after my girl Dorothy Day. She would have loved the idea of a boat with her name on it transporting workers to and from their jobs.

Me: [finally allows 15yo to watch The Sopranos after months of begging] 15yo, judgementally: I don’t think they should be holding business meetings in a strip club

Forget the Met Gala. Canadians, how many of you received the census in the mail today and, on a scale of 1 to 10, how excited are you to fill it out?

Ok, last Irish video for the night, I promise. Anyway, I have been laughing at this for the past two weeks. Land is fuckin’ land!

An excellent little Irish vocab lesson: the word term for when a man is so beautiful but so useless

I get weirdly excited when I’m cooking something that’s high in fibre, not because it’s good for me (I mean, obviously it is), but because it feels like a private middle finger to the protein supremacy we’re currently living through.

Sometimes my job is just a cream puff delight. Today I got to interview someone about their upcoming memoir, and we got to talking about The Secret Garden (which is discussed in her book). Nothing better than nerding out with someone about the horrors of the first chapter’s cholera epidemic.

A few years ago I had a series of bad eye infections that scarred my corneas and had to be treated through the hospital eye clinic. Anyway, that led to an incidental finding that my retinal nerves are significantly thicker than they should be, so I get to go have them monitored/assessed once a year.

Just saw my first blooming magnolia tree of the season. Does it have leaves yet? No. Is it kind of mangy looking? Sure. Still, pretty exciting stuff happening over here.

I know some of you enjoy having the recipes from my weekly crockpot adventures, so here’s the latest instalment: a spiced lentil and pumpkin soup that is a) vegan, and b) literally the easiest pantry meal in the world. It also makes me me feel very virtuous about how much fibre I’m consuming.

The thing I love about perfume is that there’s literally a scent for every possible moment. Like, I have one that’s a sexy, sultry cucumber number, and sometimes that really is the vibe that I want to convey!

15yo: who’s the guy that wrote a book about a guy who got his dick blown off in World War I? And then they all go to a bullfight? Me: Ernest Hemingway 15yo: exactly Me, trying to resist the urge to say that he briefly lived in Toronto: yeah, you know he lived in Toronto for a while, on Bathurst

This made me a) cry, but also b) want to be Sister Mary Kay when I grow up (Gift Link)

15yo: people don’t care enough about the medieval period and it sucks!! Me: they need to get Eleanor of Aquitaine-pilled 15yo: yeah, she was crusademaxxing

15yo: does the guy from Home Alone play Tony Soprano? Me: Joe Pesci?? No. Also, I feel like you’re weirdly stereotyping balding Italian-American men from the 90s. 15yo: GABAGOOL 15yo: also, am I old enough to watch The Sopranos yet? I promise I’m not shocked by violence!

This week at the soup kitchen, I made my mom’s famous (to me) apple spice muffins. They were so popular that they ran out in less than 3 minutes, even though I’d made 36 muffins. Full recipe in the alt text.

SCENE: my bedroom/office nook, where 15yo and I have our regular evening reading hangout 15yo: I can’t read my manga this week, because I have to read this book for school Me: oh yeah, your English teacher mentioned it. Should I read it too, so we can talk about it? [… to be continued]

They have weak borders, too. You don’t even need to show your passport to enter Vatican City!