Into August
July, she will fly
And give no warning to her flight
Life ate me up last month, but here I am, and here we are almost to the end of July. I’ve missed writing here and so I’ll try and pack this letter full of goodness to make up for my absence. I’m writing to you fresh from chopping up a red kuri squash plant with my pocket knife in the backyard. My unasked for talent is the ability to smell squash vine borers and their damage the way some pigs sniff out truffles. I caught a whiff around the squash bucket early last week and ignored it. Later I ignored the way the scent began to reach the pantry window by midday. On Friday I casually inspected the vine’s entry point to the earth. No holes that I could see. A vine borer moth flew between the plant and my face. Yesterday the plant wilted and did not come back. The sour smell hit me hard as I came through the gate, no longer ignorable. Five minutes later I was squatting in the grass in my work shoes, staring inside of the squash plant at a mass of reeking weevils and filled with brief hot rage. Despite the multitude of options for dealing with vine borers I’ve never recovered a plant from them. The sight of them severs all attachment that I have to the plant. It makes me want to RUN, so it takes all of me to stick around and cut the vine down. I’m sorry, I whisper as I carry it to the compost. I let the bugs get you. I’m sorry, I say to myself and my dreams of Bremer Kurbis Brot made with my own squash, I only planted one.
Borers aside the garden is good and finally drying out after weeks of rain. I’ve cut back mountains of white snake root to uncover other perennial flowers and dug out more purple bells from the front beds. The RNC arrived in the city on a sweaty land breeze full of black flies and Milwaukee retreated indoors. On the bus to and from work I saw none of our neighbors, the belly-forward toddlers or lounging old folks watching the bus from their porches. No construction crews jumping out of the bus’s path. Just people in navy and red being escorted by large men with ear pieces down empty streets. They nervously peered up at the bus and we nervously peered back down at them. It felt like a moment that Faith Ringgold would have turned into a quilt to make you think about it. It did not feel good.
In the middle of the next day three cops from Ohio shot (27 times) and killed a Black man named Samuel Sharpe in a neighborhood away from the RNC. They were three of the 4000-some cops that came to Milwaukee to provide law enforcement during the RNC. That bus ride home was somber. Nobody was looking at anybody. The next one was somber too. The following weekend the city started to come back, grieved and relieved. I’ve been comforted by the noise- I missed our neighbors. Cool breezes have returned as well, sometimes off the lake which smells a particular kind of way. I still can’t quite believe that we live in Wisconsin, that the lake is right there, that I could see the RNC from the bus.
Good Reads:
Wandering Stars by Tommy Orange
I tumbled through this book like a kid rolling down a grassy hill. Tommy Orange sure knows how to tell a story. I picked the book up on a friend’s recommendation and we both admired how addiction was addressed with such integrity and care. There were a few paragraphs that stopped me short for a moment, a few sentences that I returned to after I finished the last page. I found it hard to read this book without thinking about what is ahead for the next generations of Palestinians after the horrors that we continue to witness daily.
Entrails Magazine
My buddy Izzy made an art and literary magazine for and by people with inflammatory bowel disease. It’s beautiful. You can snag a copy here or through Microcosm.
Good Snack:
Icebox Cake and Veggie Torte
Two summers ago I made icebox cake with Oreo thins and realized ANY COOKIE* can become icebox cake. We recently made one pairing almond windmill cookies with orange marmalade whipped cream and it was divine. I don’t know why it took me so long to stir jam into whipped cream but I’m glad to be here now.
After the icebox cake was long gone I had leftover heavy cream that coincided with a few cool days so I made a veggie torte. Tav made a crust (she uses this recipe but usually subs half whole wheat) and while it was par-baking I chopped up cherry tomatoes, red onion, summer squash, mushrooms, new potatoes, an absolute ton of fresh herbs from the garden and a very small piece of sharp cheddar. I beat the cream (about 1c) with two eggs, salted everything and baked it at 450ºF until the onions were browning and the eggy part seemed set.
*Note: the denser/harder the cookie the longer it will need to sit in the freezer before turning cake-like.
Clothing Thoughts
Soon I’ll be starting a new job, which has ramped up my sense of urgency around getting properly dressed. While I’ve gotten rid of a lot of clothing in the last 4 years, I’ve acquired very little and some of what’s left is looking a bit threadbare. I like to look at fashion archives to train my eye for the thrift and these fits from The Met jumped out at me recently:
Leather Vest
Cotton Stripes
Intarsia and Brocade
In reality I’ve been leaning into my usual swing towards femme for summer and wearing sundresses or nylon taffeta running shorts with a thin button-up. I resurrect these sandals from the “home only” pile nearly every day and get compliments on them even though they are absolutely trashed. I also have a newer pair of these, which I try to save for dressing up over mucking about in the garden. In the studio I’ve been working on some garments that I’m reworking and embellishing but I’m not sure any of them are actually for my closet. It’s been a long, slow burn of a project that started pre-pandemic and will likely continue for some time because it’s all handwork and I’m being incredibly particular about committing to any of the choices I’ve made so far. Otherwise the studio has been quiet and I can’t say I mind because everything else has been so full.
Question- has anyone ever over-dyed their old jeans with indigo? I have two pair that are light wash and dingy and it feels like almost too perfect of a solution.
A quick note: after a few gut checks I’ve decided to have a little faith and just send all future newsletters out to the whole lot of you without paywalls. For the last few years I haven’t been able to pay for many subscriptions myself and as much as I understand that writing is labor and labor costs money under capitalism (I really, really understand), those paywalled posts sink my spirit when they land in my inbox. I know I’m not alone in that, and it’s felt a little hypocritical to send out paywalled posts while feeling that way about the ones I get. So I’d like to reframe things this way: if you can afford a paid subscription, know that that support is very much needed and appreciated on my end. If you can’t afford a paid subscription, take heart in knowing that those who can are paying for one and between everyone it evens out okay. (I’ll still be putting the archives of posts behind a paywall because it makes me feel less vulnerable on the internet.)
I feel you utterly on the paywall stuff. I can't bear to put almost anything of mine behind one, even though I sorely need money--same exact feelings you describe!!! Thank you for making your work available. I so love what you do, and when I am more able, I will gladly support it with actual dollars, and not only attention.
BVIS