I haven’t been cooking much or generally do much that’s been blog worthy. Mostly these final, glorious days of August have been an attempt to squeeze every last drop out of summer. Typically, about this time, I start to feel pangs for fall. I catch myself staring at boots or giving a sidelong wink to my dutch oven. But not this year. Eff those guys. You’ll have your day(s). I’m in utter denial that it will ever be anything less than 75 degrees out, that I’ll have to close my windows at some point, or that I really should consider purchasing a new raincoat. That day is coming but it’s not here yet. No ma’am. Wait your turn.
My buddy Jesse Hagopian on Ferguson’s school to prison (or death) pipeline. Against “date rape” nail polish in the words of Rebecca Solnit, “in an odd way it normalizes that a young woman out for the evening has to sort through young men to figure out who’s a violent felon who wants to cause her grievous bodily harm and who’s a potential boyfriend or fun adventure. Which is enough to make any young woman crazy.” Everything you know is a lie. My self-y, myself. Abortion access is a public health issue, a reproductive justice issue, and a life in 21st century America issue.