“There are two things true about living in the city; either it’s incredibly easy to stay in-shape or exceedingly difficult. You can take the former route, with the countless metro steps and chasing after trams, forgetting lunch in favor of Outlook, or cocktailing post-workdays and putting dinner plans on snooze. With the . . .”
“Eggs. Soft-boiled eggs, fried or poached eggs, take them scrambled, bake them au gratin, butter them with an omelette, or present the billowy egg-whites in a majestic French souffle, but however you take yours we can surely all agree that eggs truly are amazing. What transformative little gems, too, wouldn’t you say? . . . “
“Today I didn’t awake with my usual zest for the morning. I didn’t spring from the bed like a hot Pop-Tart straight from the toaster, either. No running shoes, no New Wave synth favorite to sing along to in the bath. In fact, the only meaningful action I took was to hit snooze. . .”
Living in a 4th story walk up isn’t exactly convenient when it comes to grocery shopping. In fact, the hamstring-pulling, lung-burning exercise renders . . .
I hear there is quite the blizzard back home in Connecticut and the entire band of New England states for that matter. Come to think of it I didn’t quite “hear” about it as that verb may come with passive connotations.
There’s nothing quite like rolling out of bed, cool water on your face to wash the sleep away, a hot pot of coffee, and turning on Fleetwood Mac. Saturday rolled in like a Prague fog today, calm and slow, a steep blowing from the hills of The Castle.
Sitting on a call with Istanbul midday yesterday, I saw the flicker of my phone out of the corner of my eye. “Hey! I am getting my blood drawn on Friday,” the husband wrote in a text, . . .
Fall has officially arrived in Prague with unromantic fanfare. Autumn, the season that always seems to creep up on us much too fast and sucks the life straight from the
In the unforgettable words of Mr. Beauregarde from “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”, “Violet, you’re turning violet, Violet!” has begged me lately, have I been that grating, consuming purple little