Tuesday, November 13, 2012. The one about a competition. But, I can report that the bird is back writing. Yes, she has hung up her camera for the time being and gone off into the world of fairy tales and fantasy. The cat has had several art projects and still has a pile of them, cluttering the table and ruining the ambiance of the parlour. You can contact her here.

Fine, fresh, local food from Angelica, New York. Wednesday, May 22, 2013. When I was a kid, Sam used to come in one morning each spring with a bucket or basket or flannel shirt brimming with locust blossoms. We would mix up pancake batter, dip the sweet blossoms, cook them on the griddle, and then eat them with honey or maple syrup. Locusts bloom suddenly and fleetingly, so fritters were a surprise spring breakfast party. Sweet, subtle locust blossom fritters.

Teaching English as a Second Language. Mausoleum of the First Qin Emperor.

Wanderings with elephants and rickshaws. In search of a thousand cafés. A nomad in the land of nizwa. Whatever a moon has always meant. New Nepal, New Voices.