At this point in the pandemic, daytime brings hope. Pictures of friends getting vaccines, talk of summer travel, and, at work, I am not responding
Note: Friends and colleagues have asked me to write about leading during these last few months at UNC. I’ve found the writing challenging, even though I think about such questions all the time.
Prior to Wednesday’s desecration of the U.S. Capitol, people were posting about new year’s resolutions, a practice I find both seductive and annoying in equal
But where was the recipe? Once through the recipe box. No cookie dough. The second time I landed on the “drunken meatball” recipe, a staple at my parents’ Christmas parties, but still no cookie dough. With rising panic, I spread the box’s contents on the kitchen table. If it wasn’t there, it was gone.
On a rainy day, I sit in my home office with the windows open and a candle lit as my workday hums along. In my “real”
On October 23rd, my father would have been 100 years old. Last year for his 99th, I flew to San Antonio with a suitcase full of