A vintage jelly jar, filled with homemade hand cream.

The new burger joint on our corner. Because they’re a Kosher shop, they don’t sell cheeseburgers. It’s enough to have Scott write the off forever.

The view while standing in the William Penn House garden.

Flowers. I rarely buy them because it seems like a waste of money. But when I do indulge, they make me inordinately happy.

Pickled ramps in progress. Just the thing for a Monday morning.

There’s a public ping pong table on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway, with paddles and a ball just sitting out and available for anyone who fancies a game. Scott and I played a short set today and I beat the pants off him. All those years playing ping pong against my dad have finally paid off.

Ramps. Everyone’s spring obsession. I like them, but I don’t go crazy for them the way some people do. Still, the stem portion do make a darn good pickle.

The Wells Fargo Building (once the Fidelity Building, where my grandfather worked for years), all lit up for the evening.

Our living room. I spend large swathes of my life here. It’s not such a bad place to be.

Roasted asparagus, topped with two poached eggs and cilantro pesto. Good lunches are truly one of the joys of working from home.