Language is evolving as we grasp for ways to express pandemic life. People are not only staying in, but hunkering down and practicing self-isolation. We’re actively engaged in social distancing so we can flatten the curve. Some are suggesting we crush the curve…
We’re instructed to stay in place or pause, but officials are avoiding the term lockdown. They’re not telling us to shelter in place, but we know we should. Andy Beshear, the soothing and reassuring governor of my state holds daily press conferences where he repeatedly reminds us that we’re safe at home. He and others are finding ways to soften the harshness of pandemic language, all while communicating the gravity of the day’s developments.
My six year-old nieces tell me about boredom during the quarantine and explain that they don’t have school due to the sickness or the cor-on-a-vir-us. My four-year old nephew seems very happy to be home with his family. He told me that his teachers aren’t at school right now.
Friends in France tell me about their gestes barrièrs (barrier actions) and the effet barrière (barrier effect) that results from maintaining physical distance. They know they must lisser la courbe (smooth the curve). France’s shutdown is called le confinement, and social media is buzzing with tips for confinement cooking, confinement reading, and entertaining kids during the confinement.
It is clear that language is shifting. Which terms will stick? What linguistic changes have you noted? As you practice social distancing, how are you passing the time?
We often said that Grandma Mary Ellen was a “cookie grandma” rather than a “pie grandma.” She always sent us home from her house with a bag or two of cookies from the big freezer in the basement—chocolate chip, starburst, or cut-out cookies… We each had our favorites. One of the stars in her cookie repertoire was her ginger snap cookies. These crispy molasses cookies seem to please everyone—the ginger, cinnamon, and cloves are warming and serve to balance the molasses.
For the most part, I am maintaining the format and wording of this “vintage” recipe. I like how simply it reads and how easy it is to prepare. If you prefer a more “snappy” cookie, substitute vegetable shortening for the butter.
The depth of nothingness is directly related to the experience of everythingness. —Matthew Fox
I am just back from a brief business trip to France and basking in the glory of home. My days in Nantes passed in a flash—meetings, a bit of research, a few get-togethers with friends, and inordinate amounts of bread, cheese, and Muscadet. Then… poof! The week was over and I was headed home.
Every so often I take a day or two to engage in extreme rest. I have created a structured life for myself, so it is never convenient, never easy to drop everything in favor of rest. But I’ve found that stillness staves off burnout. Letting my thoughts fall away energizes me. And successive naps in the span of a few days reengage my creativity, helping me to maintain levity and optimism.
The Kentucky Derby has come and gone, and today is Mother’s Day. What plans do you have for your garden this year? The harvest of my beloved yet modest 
This refreshingly old-fashioned recipe comes from Shelley and Bruce Richardson’s A Tea for All Seasons. I have made small modifications. I have found that different brands of rose water vary in strength, so tread lightly, especially when making your glaze. The 1/4 tsp rose water I use in the glaze is conservative. Add more if...
This week’s flames at Notre-Dame de Paris sunk us into collective grief and then unified us in hope, as we learned that much of the structure and most of the art had been saved. Many Gothic cathedrals have been lost to flames, but in their grace we forget their fragility.
During a recent visit to a Central Kentucky flea market, I overheard a mother instructing her children: “These are antiques, so they are three times as expensive. Don’t touch anything.” Her words have been rolling around in my mind for a few days, and I must admit that I find antique and vintage pieces to be very reasonably priced. Why? For most people, “old” things are not desirable.
