Once a week, a small group of arty pals convene after work to play with papier-mâché, share a simple meal and unwind. It’s wonderful. With our hands busy, our minds declutter and good conversation floats like a plastic bag in the wind. We talk about food, about how, without true intention, we’re mostly vegetarian. Vegetarian doesn’t always mean healthy. We talk about our weaknesses: potato chips, ice cream, Cheez Doodles.
One mentioned she’d found a decent real-food cookbook, and she’d tuned in to the author’s blog: his name is Mark. Another said, “I know that site, but it’s a knitting blog, I found it after buying the guy’s patterns. His name is Bruce.” We scrub floury paste off our hands to settle the debate. Gather ’round my laptop: find they’re talking about the same website. Tiny world.
