Essays & Poems
It Wasn't Just Trump Who Got It Wrong by Zeynep Tufekci
COVID-19 Exposes The Precarious State of Rural Health in the South by Olivia Paschal | Legit, you can sub "Wyoming" in for "South" because the precarity of our health care situation mirrors theirs even more than it mirrors our frontier rural neighbors in the Mountain West.
Logos by Mary Oliver
Why wonder about the loaves and fishes?
If you say the right words, the wine expands.
If you say them with love
and the felt ferocity of that love
and the felt necessity of that love,
the fish explode into many.
Imagine him, speaking,
and don’t worry about what is reality,
or what is plain, or what is mysterious.
If you were there, it was all those things.
If you can imagine it, it is all those things.
Eat, drink, be happy.
Accept the miracle.
Accept, too, each spoken word
spoken with love.
Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed (Essays again, dear reader, essays. And this one is our absolute favorite: The Ghost Ship That Didn't Carry Us)
Take This Bread by Sara Miles
Don't Let's Go To The Dogs Tonight by Jackson, Wyoming's own Alexandra Fuller
Schitt's Creek | Uhm, seriously, have we not already said Schitt's Creek? And you have not called us out for it? Wow, you are patient. Or woefully behind in your tv watching. Reader. This is the one that you want.
Faces/Places | Trust us.
The Dawn Wall | We've been trying to stick to women--films by women, films about women, films by women about women (of which there are far too few)--but there is something about the singular focus on a single (impossible) puzzle for an extended period of time that resonates (perhaps even more so in quarantine). "We are capable of so much more than we can ever imagine." Also: It's better than that climbing film by that rad Wyomingite that won that Oscar.
Twitter Follows | Here, too, we've been trying to stick to women, but we want to make sure you have the intel you need on COVID-19 in Wyoming. These are your follows for Wyoming intel.
Chicken Leek & Rice Soup | Another thing to do with any leftover chicken. If you don't happen to have leeks or the chance to hit the grocery, here's a solid Chicken Noodle Soup as a replacement.
Spaghetti & Meatballs | Smitten Kitchen again. Less messy and more reliable than Marcella's meatballs (and faster than her Bolognese). Though Marcella's double as an excellent pizza topping, Deb's are also good as a sandwich.
Brownies by Jen & Kate | Jen's college classic. (We won't tell you what year that was.) With thanks to Jen's college bf Ian, his mom Joanna, her sister Jen, and Katherine Hepburn.
No one should badmouth local responses and local governments shouldn't badmouth anyone either. Everyone can badmouth the federal response. Both of these things are true and aligned: We need our friends and neighbors and local officials. We are the ones we have to live with, depend on, and look at--now and when we're on the other side. So settle down, people. Show some leadership personal and otherwise. (However, if Lander's local gov't wants to get fired up, they get a hall pass.)
Creeping delays are worse than cancelled flights. We really don't love the limbo of pretending that things are still as they once were. Give us a cancellation so that we can make a new plan. Extrapolate this metaphor as you will.
In the same way that a crisis amplifies existing frailties, fragilities, and bad policies, stress does the same thing to most people. When times get tough, you will become more yourself, not less. That shadow side you thought you had neatly folded up and put on a high shelf in the back corner of a dark closet? That thing is still with you. And it will get louder the longer you try to ignore it. Our advice? Now is as good a time as any to get more comfortable with whatever that is. We're not saying to take it out and pin it to your chest. But maybe move it down a shelf. Closer to the front. Open the closet door once or twice. And now that we have extended this metaphor way beyond its utility or charmingness, here's what we're saying: We all have broken parts. You are not alone.