I’m reading an engaging book, Helen of Troy by Bettany Hughes. The author uses ancient literature, modern archeology, and personal visits to ancient sites to unravel the Helen’s myth. Was she a goddess? A slut? A woman with no voice or one who made her own way? Do we judge her too harshly? Have we
My mother couldn’t cook. She could, however, follow directions to their furthest extreme. When she got married in 1946, she purchased three cookbooks. The books lived on a kitchen shelf and were so well used that two of them are held together with now brittle cellophane tape. I don’t know if the third book was
Goddess Pele, creates land and destroys whatever impedes the process, whether vacant forest or inhabited towns. The land is hers, and she does with it as she likes, when she likes. The goddess can be beautiful and loving as shown here in Arthur Johnson’s depiction of Pele carrying her embryonic sister Hia`aka in an egg.
I went to Europe for the first time when I was 19. It was there that I discovered two food products. The first was disgusting white, greasy glob that the purveyors identified as margarine. This was a revelation to me since U.S. margarine was infused with some sort of yellow food coloring. The moment I
The symbolism of Labor Day has come a long way from its roots as a day to celebrate the contributions of the men and women who built American industry. For most of us, the day marks the end of summer. Ah, summer, the mythical season of endless days of relaxation. Labor Day marks the return