Squash Kale Autumn Salad | The Fauxmartha

In his hurriedness to get off to work, I noticed Kev took the time to throw away my used coffee filter hanging off the side of the Chemex. Meanwhile, I sat at the dining room table, drinking the cup of coffee that filter had produced. It was a rare glimpse. I’m usually the one in the kitchen or on the floor corralling the babe. Thank you, I said. He said you’re welcome like it was no big deal, like he does it all the time. I often throw it away, he said. I paused, took another sip, and tried to remember the last time I threw it away. Thank you, I said again. Read more

My mom’s in town for the week. We’ve been eating well. Very well. Drinking plenty of glasses of wine and sharing stories we’ve probably told a million times. They’re stories that make our family unique. Stories about my brother chasing my sister down the beach declaring, “sweet revenge,” with a plastic sword in his hand. Stories of sitting in ant piles and falling off my scooter. My dad picked every last pebble out of my knee. Stories of listening to my Big Bird tape player sing “I wanna go home” over and over again. Stories that no one else quite understands except my family. They’re ours. Read more

 
 
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