Last night I tried to explain to people why I love baking bread. It was the Pecha Kucha San Diego night #11 and folks were packed into the lounge at the W Hotel to hear on subjects ranging from car…
Last night I tried to explain to people why I love baking bread. It was the Pecha Kucha San Diego night #11 and folks were packed into the lounge at the W Hotel to hear on subjects ranging from car…
How do you explain death to a child when you understand so little about it yourself? Last night I found myself struggling to come up with an easy way to broach the subject with my daughter, a three-and-a-half year old…
No. The sourdough is not done yet. Always a work in progress, always a project that keeps me busy, the sourdough is getting close but might never be there. Good. I would feel so empty inside if it was done,…
For three years Child Harbat has watched while girls her age have grown our long Rapnuzel hair while hers has remained stubbornly short. Her hair has transformed from short downy to short spikey to short and fine and flat to…
Jesus, what a fiasco. Since the dentist told us ten days ago that Child Harbat’s pacifier had to go we’ve been a world of withdrawal. Without her familiar soothing mechanism, CH has been on a ten-day bender, all manic with…
I’m not a cat person. Between the can’t-be-bothered haughtiness, spraying on the walls, yowling to be let out, and desire to climb on your head, I can find better forms of companionship. But now I can add a new reason…
I know all my readers must be exhausted from the weekend of festivities, partying, and odes to uncontrolled Bacchanalia in the streets. What, you don’t celebrate Tartan Day? On Saturday there was a Tartan Day celebration in Balboa Park here…
In my world there’s a flimsy gauze between sleep and morning time. It’s translucent enough to remember your dreams with clarity and access that part of your mind that doesn’t bother with logic but rather grabs random pieces of data…
Taking a picture of my daughter requires good lighting, continuous shutter mode, and patience. Let me run you through a series of pictures I took last night when I asked Child Harbat to stand still so I could capture the…
Growing up is an incremental thing like the formation of a stalagmite—you can’t see it happening but over time the change is extraordinary. But every once in a while the transition is sudden and the baby of yesterday is left…