I started this blog with the goal of practice. Sorry, happy readers, but everything you read here is all my rough work. I needed a way to get my writing muscles limber and strong, and there’s no substitute for just…
I started this blog with the goal of practice. Sorry, happy readers, but everything you read here is all my rough work. I needed a way to get my writing muscles limber and strong, and there’s no substitute for just…
I couldn’t have been more than three years old. My brother, two years my senior, decided it would be a fantastic idea to get into all the ingredients in the pantry and I was the perfect man for the job. …
Child Harbat still isn’t that big on vegetables. As a baby she downed terrific amounts of anything green, pureed and spoon-fed into her smiling mouth. Now she finds a microscopic fleck of basil on her pizza and picks it off,…
Last year I wrote about a grease spatter guard made by Ikea that has a very small handle in the middle, requiring you to reach into the scorching corona of danger to lift up the guard. Clever, no? At work…
If you think the Handmade household is completely organized and up to date with all holiday decorations, I’m about to blast your assumptions into deep space. I give you exhibit ‘A’. Young children and those with heart conditions should look…
Really I’ve been putting this off for far too long. I have a workable and tasty sourdough recipe, an oven setup that works well, and all the tools to make a baguette. What’s been holding me back? Fear. A baguette…
I’ve heard it from my wife, from friends, and can identify it in myself. Many of the things we have at our very core come from a period in our lives we can hardly remember. Some of my wife’s earliest…
Child Harbat has so much energy I can almost see the food being burned up inside her when I look in her ear, like the viewport on a blast furnace. One of the games she still enjoys playing is “Baby…
Today is National Bring Your Daughter to Work Day. I can’t figure out if there’s a corporation that benefits from this, in the crass way that the greeting card and boxed chocolate cartels have inflated Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, and…
As you age you forget the simple joys of Easter: the Easter bunny, baskets of goodies, egg hunts, and frilly dresses. That last one I really miss, as a young lad I had many crinoline and taffeta Easter get-ups. No,…