This little guy wanted to hang out with me while I worked the other day. (Don’t mind the dirty coffee cup on the windowsill.)
If you’re feeling robbed by crappy weather on this long holiday weekend, consider this: In 2026, Memorial Day falls on the earliest possible day this year (May 25) and Labor Day falls on the latest possible day (Sept. 7). That means we get 106 days of summer this year — up from 99 in 2025!
I ❤️ Martin Short.
Eleven thoughts on Belle Burden’s “Strangers” from a female wealth manager. This is fascinating.
Here’s what American bedrooms looked like the year you were born.
Here’s a fun one for the kids from NASA: Go to this page, type in your name, and see what it looks like spelled out in Landsat imagery of Earth.
I loved Emma Straub’s “This Time Tomorrow,” but couldn’t get through “American Fantasy.” And I’m finally reading “Everything Is Tuberculosis” by John Green of “The Fault in Our Stars” fame.
Pope Leo’s encyclical about AI — “Magnifica Humanitas” — which has been anticipated for months, finally published today. The document is about 42,300 words long. In it, the pope wrote that work is more than a way of earning an income, but “a requirement of the human condition, a normal path toward maturity, development and personal fulfillment.” (On Friday, in a statement on X, the pope said, “the challenge we currently face is not technological, but anthropological,” which has really stuck with me.)
I need a new bathing suit and the standard brands aren’t doing it for me, so I’m going to research some of the new-to-me swimwear in this guide from Elin Strong.
Not sure what to talk about during your 1:1s? This deck of cards from Plucky helps you have more productive conversations. (I’ve said it before, but I love Plucky’s "Manager Weeklies,” too.)
And this week’s poem:
To be of use — Margie Percy The people I love the best jump into work head first without dallying in the shallows and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight. They seem to become natives of that element, the black sleek heads of seals bouncing like half-submerged balls. I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart, who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience, who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward, who do what has to be done, again and again. I want to be with people who submerge in the task, who go into the fields to harvest and work in a row and pass the bags along, who are not parlor generals and field deserters but move in a common rhythm when the food must come in or the fire be put out. The work of the world is common as mud. Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust. But the thing worth doing well done has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident. Greek amphoras for wine or oil, Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums but you know they were made to be used. The pitcher cries for water to carry and a person for work that is real.
Hope your short week is a good one,







omg that timeline of bedrooms gave me such nostalgia! and thank you so much for mentioning my swimwear guide! would love to know what you end up going with! <3
Ya'll, someone just alerted me: I failed to include the article link for #3. Here it is: https://substack.com/home/post/p-197980233