After a life spent wandering from place to place in service of the church, my wife, kids, and I now live an hour from Cane Ridge, the very spot where our movement began. For four years we’ve called Kentucky home. I’ll always long for the Caribbean, always feel like moving after a year or two, always think the only real mountains in this world are the Sangre de Cristos.
via This World Is Not My Home by Jeremy Paden (part 8) | Esse Diem.
Filed under Essays on Childhood: In a Man's Voice, Writing
Mom taught me to love saffron, cilantro, bread fruit. Taught me to cook, taught me only to barely ever follow a recipe, should instinct or lack of ingredients dictate otherwise. And she has passed on to me this love of food and cooking, this adventure into the world of the senses.
via This World Is Not My Home by Jeremy Paden (part 7) | Esse Diem.
Filed under Essays on Childhood: In a Man's Voice, Writing
