Dear Sentimentalists,
Hello again. Surprised to see another letter so soon? I’m temporarily trying to be consistent. After realizing how little I’ve written and how few photos I’ve taken (combined with how little I desire to share on social media anymore) over these past months, I started to worry that some of my life-documenting habits have gone by the wayside, and therefore memories are floating away, never to return.
Postscript
Sometimes I write things and then notice how many other people have written about the same or similar things, but much more eloquently with actual research. Last time I shared about how I love trying on perspectives of other time periods, which is only enhanced by the old books I enjoy reading (and implore people to seek out). This past week I read an article published in Noema called “The Lost Art of Thinking Historically.” What I loved about this piece is how it considers our natural desire for certainty, and our tendency to label and mythologize eras of the past. But of course, there is no real logical beginning or end. When we (er… historians) dive more deeply, we discover how uncertain and chaotic these times were - not tidily summed up at all. What we find is a fascinating study of change, and it looks different depending on where we start from, and there are so many questions we can’t always answer. I’ve been reading War and Peace all year, and this is actually something Tolstoy brings up as he ponders the events of war. Who can say what caused what? There are so many factors that play into what we now know as big historical moments, but we simply can’t know them unless we comb through these forgotten artifacts - even as recent as 15 years ago! There are rich lessons there. Which…I don’t know…could really help us right now.
Question of the week
How do folks over 40 address and assess their wardrobe? My philosophy has long been to dress in a way that shows I care about myself (whatever that means at that moment), but I recently had a lively conversation with my husband in which we discussed the ingrained seasonal urge to freshen up one’s style, while we both loathe the stretchy plastic that is infused into most fabric these days from both a quality and environmental perspective. And also, how do we even make time for this? Haven’t we reached the age of signature style? Which is a nice way of saying we wear pretty much the same three shirts over and over. I am at once satisfied with my style and yearning to prove it in new ways. Heaven help us all.
Good food!
Eating from the farmers’ market means you get to exert minimal effort for maximum flavor, and this is especially true during tomato season. On a Thursday when I was home alone for the evening, I did what Tamar Adler taught me to do years ago in The Everlasting Meal and boiled a pot of water and turned on the oven - acts that inspire one to look around to find things to put in. In the water, I put in some quinoa and salt. In the oven, the vegetable remnants from the fridge and the counter: broccolini, pattypan squash, heirloom tomatoes, dragon tongue beans - tossed in olive oil, salt and pepper. In about 20 minutes, with everything tossed together, I had dinner. Feeling smart, I added some flair by making a smoked paprika and walnut dressing. Honestly, the dish did not need it because the tomatoes did all the work once I put everything together in a bowl. But a dressing makes things feel thoughtful, and so I enjoyed that, too. (In a blender, blitz the following: clove garlic, 3 T. red wine vinegar, 3 T. toasted walnut pieces, 1/2 tsp. smoked paprika, 2 tsp. honey, 2 T. chopped parsley, 1/3 c. olive oil, 1/2 tsp. sea salt, black pepper. Recipe from Sprouted Kitchen’s Bowl + Spoon.)
Since re-reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle this summer (by Barbara Kingsolver, which I resolve to read every few years), I’ve been paying closer attention to where my produce comes from. I am suddenly shocked by how much I assumed that buying produce that’s theoretically “in season” at my local grocery store is still coming from all over the planet: bell peppers from Denmark (what?!), green onions from Mexico, lemons from Australia. How did we get here? I am going to be a piece of work come winter, but I am excited about a new year-round farmers market that opened this past year, and hope to shop there regularly (I also hope it succeeds in this town). It’s a bit out of the way, but it’s sure a lot less overall mileage for my food to travel. Also, how wonderful to live in Washington if you love apples.
Be kind - to you or me?
Over the years, I’ve noticed a growing number of signs/t-shirts telling no one in particular to “Be kind.” At first I thought, “That is great. I like these positive reminders” and, “How nice, this person must be kind.” But the more I saw it, I developed a beef. I’d like to believe it is shorthand for the quote, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” Presented in this shorthand way of “Be kind,” over and over, it has lost its nod to universal human suffering, i.e., the implied understanding that you are suffering, too. In my mind, BE KIND is just telling me to remember to be kind (on a good day) or to stop being a jerk (on a bad day), the latter of which seems to be the predominant undertone, which doesn’t feel great when I’m not feeling great. By the way, upon some lazy Wikipedia research, the quote I referenced appears to be a modernized quote of Ian Maclaren, a Scottish minister from the late 19th century, who said, “Be pitiful, for every man is fighting a hard battle.” Imagine that on a shirt. Who wants to be pitiful in 2025?! Well, maybe me. Either way, I’m trying to be kind to people telling me to be kind. We’re all just pitiful human beings who are enraged by small things right now because we can’t control the giant storms around us. Take pity on us all.
5 steps to Antonio Adolfo
And finally, a silly musical journey. Earlier this week, Joel sent me a cute French song from the 70s:
…which I instantly recognized from the City of God soundtrack, but that rendition was sung by Wilson Simonal in Portuguese:
which led me to look up Wilson’s top tracks, which led me to his most famous:
…one I know and love due to Sergio Mendes and Brasil 66’s rendition in English…
…which led me to the composer of that song. Antonio Adolfo. Who is still living and performing and putting out albums! Because of this little rabbit trail, I discovered my favorite track of the moment, which he recorded in 1979:
So long, Sept.
And with that, I’m out. Sentimentally!
Yours,
E.
It has never been an "easy" world to live in, but we live for moments of grace, happiness, joy. One of the reasons we still turn to music. Your wisdom is inspiring.