Twitter, while often vile, sometimes throws out a little lifeline like “Reasons to Live Through the Apocalypse,” by Nikita Gill. I love lists, making them and reading them, and her poem inspired me to make my own: Rewatching Freaks and Geeks; bacon; the shower after a walk; packages in the mail; green hydrangeas; discovering “Ballad of the Sad Young Men” sung by Mark Murphy; reading a novel about sexy werewolves; the perfect lip balm; art show opening nights; appetizers for dinner; velvet shoes; the smell of rain hitting hot pavement in summer; the chance UFOs and angels might exist; a new Uni-ball pen; drowsing; French fries and mayonnaise; that moment a headache goes away; salted dark-chocolate caramels; the first cup of coffee on a road trip; paper maps. My list is but a frail sail in a storm of hatred, but I hope it will help keep me afloat. Name what you love.

Designed by Alessandra Baldereschi from Milan, these handmade and flame-worked glass tumblers with tiny animals inside are beautiful little gifts. I bought one locally at Elizabeth Stuart after seeing them at a friend’s house, but they’re also available online at IchendorfMilano.com. Perfect size for a little Champagne.

 Some of the items on 100 Ways to Slightly Improve Your Life in The Guardian are fairly obvious or Brit-centric, but there are others I’ll heed, including #21 and #60. And I can definitely recommend #70. When my bookclub went skinny dipping in the ocean one night, it seemed daring and scary – mainly because one of us misplaced her glasses and stumbled naked into some strangers and well…sharks. It’s one of my best memories. 

It's the centenary of Jack Kerouac, and I’ve been reading the book of his journals called Windblown World and Off the Road by Neal Cassady’s wife, Carolyn, about their entwined lives/loves. Kerouac and Cassady both met tragic ends, but I envy the brief wild freedom they had to travel the country, riding through little towns at night, hearing lonely train whistles and seeing the vastness and variousness of America. Before Dollar Stores, Walmart’s and Gaps popped up everywhere, before one place began to look like the next one down the road, before TV homogenized our culture

If you’re old enough to remember Burt Reynolds’ nude centerfold in Cosmo, and you aren’t  If you're offended by lots of penises (erect and otherwise) and dildoes on screen, you might enjoy Minx on HBO Max. It’s a comedy about a woman in the 1970s who wants to start a feminist magazine but is persuaded by a soft porn publisher to create an erotic magazine for women instead. He convinces her that a little sugar will make preaching about the patriarchy easier to swallow (pun intended). I’m loving it, but make sure the kids are asleep before you turn it on.