A letter, not a feed
A handful of people writing down the week so it does not blur. Flowers on a porch. Saturday on a grill. Fog on the ridge. Dry grass under the Front Range. The name you lost in the hallway. We do not run a clinic and we do not sell a protocol from this desk.
Doug Keller — the Front Range before the house starts, two mugs on the deck, and the gate latch he can still fix.
Helen Calder — morning fog on the Blue Ridge, two mugs on the porch, and the keys that were on the counter the whole time.
Denise Mercer — the quiet kitchen after the kids left, a mug that stays put, and the letter most weekday mornings.
Samantha Green — hydrangeas, quiet coffee, and the grocery list that was in her pocket the whole time.
Kylie Nelson — the white pot on the railing, quiet coffee, and the list that was under the lemon.
Craig Whitaker — Saturday on the grill, two mugs on the deck, and the porch light he can still fix.
A small column on memory lapses, brain fog, and the gap between “it’s just age” and what the research actually describes. In plain English.
A small column on satiety, appetite, and the gap between “just eat less” and what the signaling research actually describes. In plain English.