A large container of hand-me-down, 40 year old Lego bricks recently arrived from the in-laws. My son’s response: bliss. My husband’s: nostalgia. Mine: equal parts admiration and eco-anxiety.
Just before relocating to the wine, foie gras and steak tartare capital of Europe, I was told that winters would be gray, but that nothing was better than red wine and roasted meat. This advice came from someone who didn’t know I’d been a teatotaling pescatarian for decades.