So I skipped yoga this am (yep, again) to finish Trail of Crumbs. I slowly ate this book, as she blends her search for a sense of internal belonging with her appetites, attempting to connect through cooking. Want my copy? I’ll send it to the first to request it! A few lines munched into my core
This crazy idea that I must keep running in order to survive, in order not to be loved too much or not enough. Running so I will never have to deal with someone not wanting to keep me.
And this one: (cheesy, I know, but it fed me)
For now, I have learned that home is in my heart ---in the people and places I left behind. It’s in the food I cook, and share with others, in the cities I will come to know, and in the offerings of vendors around the world, in market I have yet to discover.

As I prepare to move overseas in a little more than a month, or as we all transition from one season into another, I feel restless, nervous, indebted to this being alive business. So fundamentally easy, and yet I complicate it so. No matter what I am, the big decisions and moral questions I face daily (is this child “going to make it”) and the little choices that occupy too much space (“should I stop for gas here?) I still choose what to prepare for lunch, for dinner, how to take my coffee…