met her on the beach in san felipe...both of us looking for seashells. used my poor junior-high spanish to find out she was a grandmother. she didn't have running water, but fed me lunch & taught me to make tortillas.
I'm a cook. And I write, sometimes about food, mostly poems. I make stuff. I get lost. I'm worried about vanishing bees, melting icecaps, the decrease of civility in the world, seedless watermelons, and whether there will be enough time for me to get it all right.