Author Archives: Kate Christensen

This weekend, we made a pact to try to stay off our computers as much as we could. Brendan succeeded entirely, which was no surprise, because he’s not as addicted as I am to the computer in the first place, … Continue reading →

Brendan and Dingo and I just spent three days in Western Massachusetts with my best friend Cathi and her husband, Dan. The occasion of our visit was Cathi’s and my first joint reading together, ever, in almost a quarter century … Continue reading →

For a couple of years, Brendan and I have batted around an idea for a TV show called “Cougar Kitchen”  — scripted, but imitating a reality show, with a sexy, bitchy older woman and a sexy, obedient but slightly seething … Continue reading →

I walked in to the soup kitchen on Thursday morning to find Monica, the kitchen manager, almost in tears, in a state of awe. There were 10 or 11 boxes on the floor by the steam table, the most beautiful … Continue reading →

When we got to the Eastern Prom yesterday morning before 10, the whole place was buzzing. The entire street that runs along the promenade was blocked off, and men in reflective yellow vests directed cars to park on side streets. … Continue reading →

Of course, being a dedicated eater, and a woman, I’ve always had to reckon with the risk of weight gain, to balance sensual indulgence with sensible moderation. I was a skinny kid, a happy glutton who ran around outside for … Continue reading →

Strangely, given that we’re in the middle of what passes for a heat wave up here, it’s been a week of steady potato-eating. The other day, we discovered the steak frites at our local bistro; these fries are addictive — … Continue reading →

It’s summertime in Maine, finally, after a long, cold, rainy spring. We’ve been on a bit of an eating and drinking binge around here, as usual. Lately, a theme seems to be emerging: pink. Last weekend, Brendan’s best friends visited … Continue reading →

The other evening, I was upstairs, reading John Crowley’s “Little, Big” in the bathtub with a glass of wine. Brendan was downstairs, making basil pesto.  I thought this was a fine arrangement, all around. After a few pages, I put … Continue reading →

Yesterday on our walk, the tide was as high as I’ve ever seen it here, churning at the stone seawall. The beaches had disappeared. We walked through driving rain and a hard wind, glad we’d worn knit hats and sweaters … Continue reading →