Rachel Hartman
@rachelhartmanbooks
Dragon, writer, thinker, friend No AI, not now, not ever Join me at Fake Folktales: 🇨🇦
My son's band, JOY CANOPY, will be playing in Victoria BC this coming weekend. I can't be there, so I need you to go on my behalf and cheer them on.
15) If you want me to speak to your university about any of the topics in which I am an expert (dithering, obfuscating, peeling pearl onions), you must go through my public appearances agent (possibly a goblin) pictured below:
The raspberry bush on our patio is blooming! We may get berries yet!
I know you're not supposed to compare your children, but Una was a creature of consummate grace and dignity, and Evie is more like WHAT IS DIGGINITY, MOM? AM I DOING IT? PPPBBBBTTTTHH!
Not to brag or anything, but after three days Evie is pretty much house-trained. She asks to go out on the balcony, and she uses her fake-grass mat (100% for pee, still the occasional miss on poops). This is a particularly convenient superpower of whippets: they're fastidious. Also, adorable.
Sorry it took me so long to get a picture, but here it is: my first baby blanket. It's own pattern, totally made up by me, because I'm cocky that way:
Coming July 9th, my event at Iron Dog Books! Scan QR code to RSVP.
My mom used to have this necklace, and I don't know what happened to it. We used to go on anti-nuke peace marches with our church, haha, imagine that. That was in the 80s, those hippie-peacenik Southern Baptists
In memoriam: Úna the whippet 2009-2025 The best of all possible girls (photo credit: Liz Edgar)
If you see this, quote with flowers from your gallery #bloomscrolling
Shout-out to @phantomscribbler.bsky.social who said I should take on an actual project instead of just practicing stitches and unraveling them every night like Penelope. And so I present you, the enormous granny square, destined to become a lap blanket possibly, eventually.
Here she is in her well-spent youth, tearing up the place. She was really fast, and so, so happy when she ran. Swear to god, she would grin. Photo by my friend Liz Edgar.
Here she is a couple years ago. Ok, maybe the couch was always hers...
It's becoming increasingly clear that we are entering the final weeks, maybe even days, of the life of our lovely Una, and I am just so very sad all the time
The lamb roast, having marinated all night in milk, honey, pepper, and asafoetida, ready to go in the oven. I'm not convinced milk is a truly effective marinade ingredient, and not just a "we'll take a limousine 'cause it costs more" kind of ingredient, but I guess we'll see.
The olive relish. This stuff is dumbfoundingly delicious. I don't even like olives, and I would stuff it in my face all day. Is it the rue? The mint? The coriander leaf? The dash of vinegar? Who can say.