The other day, I was leaning over my Mead composition notebook brainstorming topics for my column. Usually, this means reflecting on the past week and wondering if I noted anything interesting that might be interesting to you. Sugar snap pea season? Great summer slaw recipe? Chipmunk hunting starring Tilly and Hugo? This Nars blush shade called “Orgasm” that apparently everyone has heard of for years except for me?
Staring at the list, I realized I’ve written versions of every one of these things already. And that’s when I knew. My column had come to its end. It took me 17 years, but I can now say I’ve written about — and celebrated — every mundane topic I can think of.