Hey there!
Let’s talk about our days…
A few weeks ago, as I reached to hug one of my kids who had just pulled in the driveway, it occurred to me that I was about to touch someone other than Cal for the first time in four and a half months. Which is so weird. After serious two-week quarantines by our five separate pods, all fifteen of us were headed to the Florida panhandle to quarantine together. No eating out this year, and only a masked few left the house to pick up takeout. We ate lots of yummy blackened grouper sandwiches with onion and avocado… It was so amazing to hang out with people and see the ocean that I didn’t open my computer for a week—I don’t think that has happened since the invention of laptops.
Today is a rainy day in Columbus. I’m in my study with a candle flickering on my desk and the soft whir of a fan on my back. Out the window, green leaves everywhere. As we begin the last week of August, we’re inching our way toward my favorite time of year—fall and winter.
When I was in third grade, I started writing down each book I read on an index card, and I kept the cards in one of those plastic file boxes like my grandmother used for recipes. At some point, I threw the little box away, but I wish I still had it. In 1999, I revived the concept and have been keeping a list ever since. When I started Catching Days back in September of 2008, my reading list went online too. You can find it here. And if you ever want to know what I thought of a book or if you’d like a book recommendation, just shoot me an email.
Sean Hill was born and raised in Milledgeville, Georgia, which is about a hundred and thirty miles northeast from where I sit writing to you and which is where Flannery O’Connor lived from age fifteen on. Now Sean lives in Montana with his family. But I discovered Sean’s poetry on Facebook when a friend shared his poem Governor’s Mansion Hands, and I clicked over and read the twenty-seven line poem, ignoring the footnotes as I often do. I loved it. And then I listened to Sean read the poem, and in addition to the poem itself, he read the thirty-eight lines of footnotes, and of course I should have too. I don’t remember reading a poem where the footnotes were as important as the text. And I keep thinking about that. You can read more about Sean’s poetry here.
And now for a sneak peek into Sean’s wonderful day.

After dropping [my son] off, I go back home and make my breakfast and hang out in the kitchen with the dog while listening to the radio. Breakfast involves making toast and heating a soysage in our toaster oven, being mindful of the hotspot in the left rear corner and setting the timer for the soysage and keeping my nose set for the toast and getting the heat just right on the omelette pan.  [read more]
Speaking of soysage, do you know about Goldbelly? You may not be jetting around like you used to so let the food come to you! This past week Cal and I reeked of olives and garlic after chowing down at our kitchen table on a muffuletta from Central Grocery in New Orleans. It’s win-win because we get to eat the muffuletta AND help Central Grocery during this time that few are traveling to the birthplace of jazz. So, why not get out your old guidebooks and “visit” a city.

By the way, Goldbelly also offers “city subscriptions” where a selection of food from restaurants in the city of your choosing comes to you once a month and 100% of proceeds go to healthcare and frontline workers in that city.
With this newsletter, I wish for you the food you’ve been dreaming of...

Stay well.
This is an email from me to you so you can write me back. Let me know how you’re spending your days.

Happy last days of August and thanks for reading.
Peace out,

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Issue #15 August 2020
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Copyright © 2020 Cynthia Newberry Martin, All rights reserved.

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