For the past month, I’ve been working on a project multiple people have referred to as “a perfect fit.” It’s basically what I was made for.
An old farmhouse, goats with an abundance of personality, modern French decor, and a 7-course gourmet meal. Welcome to Zingerman’s Cornman Farms.
Nobody truly “makes it on their own.” Whether it’s as complex as a mentorship or as simple as a passing piece of advice, every professional has had some level of support or guidance on their way up.
There’s a lot that’s happened to us over the last while. By “us,” I mean humans. By “while,” I’m referring to the last 100,000 years.
This woman saved lives by embracing the one thing she was ashamed of.
Steak! PBR! Jerry Bruckheimer! Chainsaws! Wrestling! Speed Boats! WRITING IN ALL CAPS!
It’s Feudal Japan, on a bright May morning. The cherry blossoms and tulips are making way for draperies of wisteria. All around, the beat of the Taiko drums reverberates through the air. In the distance, there come the sounds of kiai, and the crash of bamboo striking bamboo, threatening to drown out the shouts. A dog calls and yips as the nearby boats drift past, the low thrum of their engines interspersed with the occasional horn…