A few weeks ago, I invited a friend to visit me in DC and I planned a relaxing weekend for the two of us in the Virginia mountainside.
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Last month, someone asked me how I got a tan on my face in the middle of the winter. So I explained.
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Thanksgiving at our house is pretty funny. In our family we have several committed meat eaters, a few vegans, one experienced foodie, one daughter with food sensitivities, and those whose needs vary each year.
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Like many of my other posts, I am writing this from a place where I am alone yet surrounded by dozens of other people. This particular morning I am in a coffee house in Burlington, VT.
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I recently learned the sanskrit word for bowl, patra. During the Buddha's time, monks and nuns took their patra on alms rounds.
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