There’s a group of strangers blocking the sidewalk up ahead, and so I thread myself between the nose and tail of two parked cars to walk down the middle of the street instead. That’s how I notice the necklace that dangles from the rearview mirror, tugging at my peripheral vision…


On adopting a dog named Tomato, skies full of clouds, and other tender things — including a reframe of “productivity.”

This story was originally published on Substack. Subscribe here! And, all of the photos included were shot on film in the Bay Area — around my neighborhood in Oakland, along…


and the stories told by the vaccine rollout, from the perspective of a person with Type 1 diabetes.

Our recycling bin is currently feathered with the torn-up shreds of last week’s New York Times magazine, and the reason is that I’m a freelancer. Since I’m self-employed, I have to buy…


On hard conversations, confrontation, and the craving for quiet.

I have been thirsty for silence. Silence like seltzer from a just-cracked can, the fizz stinging the tongue on its way towards the long glug. Like a steaming shower on jittery limbs. Like when you’ve just gotten out of the ocean with tentacled hair clinging to pink shoulders, and you…


On growing tomatoes and the insidiousness of work culture

A photo of a tomato plant growing next to a mesh fence, with mostly plump green tomatoes, a few reddening in the middle
Photo: Leah Pellegrini

If this were any other year, there’s so much I’d want to show you and tell you about. About the first roasted tomatoes of the season, bubbling under their blistered skins, devoured three days in a row for lunch or dinner because why would anyone ever eat anything else? About…


The only sound is the snickering of candles we’ve arranged on the edge of the sink and the closed toilet seat, their flames flickering gold on our forehead sweat. Is the occasional swoosh of the shallow water that we swirl with our bath-puckered hands, just to sense movement. Is the…


Finding meaning in the spaces between

Photo: Dina Issam/EyeEm/Getty Images

GAP, noun \’gap\ :

(1) a difference, especially an undesirable one, between two views or situations

(2) an incomplete or deficient area

(3) an assailable position

Katie Ledecky carves water into shards as the construction men shatter the street outside our house, hunting for the source of the leak. The…


It began as jumbled mumbling before it crescendoed to a regular, raucous chorus in the background music of my mind: Write more. You must return to writing. You are a writer, and a writer must write.

The same day I moved into my tiny (more like teeny) home in…


We clink through the glass mason jars on the shadowy shelf in the cellar, squinting to read the Sharpie labels in the dark, and select an intriguing pint of pickles, prepared and preserved from last summer’s cucumbers we weren’t here to witness being grown. The stems of dill wriggle in…


I know that it’s not permanent. I know that there are way worse injuries than broken ankles, and that even broken ankles are often way worse than mine. I know this. People break bones all the time. Children break bones all the time. But maybe it’s easier for children. They…

Leah Pellegrini

Writer, farmer, etc, just trying to make Mama Nay proud.

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