I couldn't have loved this more. I never had lobster as a kid and always thought of it as rich-people food. You brought lobster down to earth and made me long for a paper-covered table and a hot summer day (the latter of which I have in spades, but hot summer days in the city don't do a whole lot for the soul.) Thanks for another great story. And PS - I can't seem to write lately either.
Thanks so much for reading! I'm sorry you're struggling to write these days, but honestly it's good to know I'm not the only one. Summer brain is my current excuse. 🙃
Thank you, Natalie, your comment means a lot. I'm currently reading 'Shout Her Lovely Name' and absolutely loving it. What gorgeous, evocative, assured writing - I'll probably be shouting about it in a future newsletter! 🥰
Aww. Thank you! Honestly, your newsletter put me right in that driveway with the card tables. Your story is very adjacent to my childhood, though in the Santa Cruz mountains. Take care!
The lobster eating ritual in Maine sounds a lot like the blue crab eating ritual in DelMarVa. Unpretentious. The same with oysters. My mother grew up in Baltimore and every winter my grandfather would get a bushel bag of oysters and keep them in the cellar. The men would go down there every night and drink beer and shuck and eat oysters. We still have my grandfather’s oyster knife, which is much superior to the oyster knives today.
I grew up outside Baltimore and seafood was a staple of my summers, too! What a gift to have your grandfather's oyster knife - I just gave my chef son a new one, but it's probably not as good as the old school tools. Thanks for reading!
I couldn't have loved this more. I never had lobster as a kid and always thought of it as rich-people food. You brought lobster down to earth and made me long for a paper-covered table and a hot summer day (the latter of which I have in spades, but hot summer days in the city don't do a whole lot for the soul.) Thanks for another great story. And PS - I can't seem to write lately either.
Thanks so much for reading! I'm sorry you're struggling to write these days, but honestly it's good to know I'm not the only one. Summer brain is my current excuse. 🙃
I love an essay on summer. It’s such a potent memory-making season. Beautiful piece!
Beautiful 🤩! Thank you 😊
Thank you, Natalie, your comment means a lot. I'm currently reading 'Shout Her Lovely Name' and absolutely loving it. What gorgeous, evocative, assured writing - I'll probably be shouting about it in a future newsletter! 🥰
Aww. Thank you! Honestly, your newsletter put me right in that driveway with the card tables. Your story is very adjacent to my childhood, though in the Santa Cruz mountains. Take care!
The lobster eating ritual in Maine sounds a lot like the blue crab eating ritual in DelMarVa. Unpretentious. The same with oysters. My mother grew up in Baltimore and every winter my grandfather would get a bushel bag of oysters and keep them in the cellar. The men would go down there every night and drink beer and shuck and eat oysters. We still have my grandfather’s oyster knife, which is much superior to the oyster knives today.
I grew up outside Baltimore and seafood was a staple of my summers, too! What a gift to have your grandfather's oyster knife - I just gave my chef son a new one, but it's probably not as good as the old school tools. Thanks for reading!