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Monthly Review: July 2026

  • Writer: r.m. allen
    r.m. allen
  • 1 minute ago
  • 6 min read

We were supposed to stop an hour and a half ago—blood clots, my OB warned me. Get up and move around every two hours. But driving at night like this feels too much like flying. We’re past Milwaukee, through Chicago, into Indiana, and we left just about three hours ago. The last two times we made this trip together we drove through the night, but after two summers off and 18 weeks of pregnancy, we weren’t sure what kind of time we’d make, especially since Mitchell worked a 12 hour day, came home, and got straight in the car to start the drive. But here we are at 11:30 pulling into a travel plaza somewhere in Indiana, and if this first leg of the trip is any indication, we’re going to be just fine.


Normally, our travel philosophy is to get from point A to point B with the fewest and shortest possible stops. Dash in, hit the bathroom, swap drivers, and get back on the road in under five minutes. But there’s no need to rush, no lines to wait in, not another soul in sight as we make our way inside. The fluorescent lights above us glow with a kind of unreality, and our steps echo on the pristine tile. It feels like an abandoned mall. Together, we walk. We loop around the food court, passing the darkened Auntie Anne’s, the Panda Express, the Burger King (why does every travel plaza on I-90 seem to have one?), the Starbucks. Mitchell holds my hand. I glance at my growing belly, which has in the last couple weeks started to look like it actually contains a baby and not just some extra poundage. It makes me want to cry in the middle of the Knute Rockne Travel Plaza: we’re all here. My husband, my son, and me, on our way to the lake.


Since our last time making this trip together, vacation at the lake has become increasingly complicated. Mitchell’s new off-season after his career switch—will he ever be able to travel in the summer again? My grandparents’ aging—how many more summers will we have together? My brothers’ growing families—who will be able to make the trip? My own inability to grow mine—would I ever have babies to bring to the lake? What does next summer look like? What happens ten years from now? The uncertainty clouded each visit like a rain forecast.


Now at last here is something to think about for next year with excitement. Next year, he’ll be here. Next year, we’ll get to bundle him into a life jacket and a sunhat and take him out on the boat. Next year, we’ll clutch him tight to our chests and wade into the lake till his toes hit the cold water—maybe he’ll giggle; maybe he’ll holler till we march straight back out. Next year, maybe a couple of his cousins will get to come till we have bunches of babies growing up on Lake Ozonia summers just like my brothers and cousins and I did, bursting out of the cabin and leaving wet towels on the floor and splashing each other and riding tubes behind the 1977 Cee Bee Avenger and starting the countdown till next summer as soon as they pull out of the driveway.


All this stretches before us, but he isn’t quite here yet. He is drifting in an amniotic sea—dreaming, perhaps, just as I am dreaming now. Once he is here, it will never again be as simple as it is today—I know this—but I will happily trade the longing I feel and have so long felt for its realization, whatever complexities come with it. My parents made the trip with me; next year we will make the trip with him, the fifth generation of my family to know and love the lake. Again we trace the circle, walking it hand-in-hand till it brings us right back where we began.

Here's what I read, cooked, and created in the month of July.


What I Read

  • Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, J.K. Rowling (★★★★★)–reread

  • Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, J.K. Rowling (★★★★★)–reread

  • Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, J.K. Rowling (★★★★★)–reread

  • Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, J.K. Rowling (★★★★★)–reread

  • Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, J.K. Rowling (★★★★★)–reread

  • Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, J.K. Rowling (★★★★★)–reread

  • Communion: Finding My Way Back to Faith, JD Vance (★★★★)

  • Nurture: A Modern Guide to Pregnancy, Birth, and Early Motherhood, Erica Chidi (★★★★)

  • Cherry Baby, Rainbow Rowell (★★★★)

  • By the Book, Jasmine Guillory (★★★)

  • What Happened to the McCrays?, Tracey Lange (★★★)

  • This Must Be the Place, Maggie O'Farrell (★★)


If you want to hear the rationale behind my rating, head to my Goodreads for full reviews.


What I Cooked

  • Tomato Tart

    • Difficulty: ★

    • Flavor: ★★★★★

    • Keeper: Yes

With Instagram recipes, you never know how good the directions will be, and for this one, I bumped up both the cooking temperature and time to make sure my puff pastry actually crisped, because it did not look promising on the lower temperature. But flavor-wise, this was a quintessential light summer dinner that we found quite tasty.


I would not consider myself the biggest barbecue connoisseur, but these tacos were so delicious I made a second batch of the meat to serve nacho-style. Since I am a certified pickle hater, I used pickled jalapeños, and of course I served with my favorite Mexican coleslaw. I can see myself making these again in the near future.


I made this for my best friend, and if you have somebody in your life who likes chickpeas, kale, and melty cheese, you should make it for them.


Wowza. I am already looking forward to making these again. I marinated my cherry tomatoes with garlic, a little vinegar, red pepper flakes, and course salt, so that definitely added to the flavor as well. My husband did not care for these cold, so this is definitely a hot sandwich.


I almost feel bad saying I made this recipe because I used my own homemade meatballs and store-bought pesto, but the end result was so good that I have to share. Even my husband, who is not the biggest pesto enthusiast, enjoyed. For the sauce, I think I ended up with about a cup of cream and 1/4 cup of pesto along with my pasta water, and it was perfect. Could not have been easier.


A poor-man’s Cowboy Caviar in that it includes about half the number of ingredients but delivers just about the same experience. A half recipe would be sufficient to feed a family (I made the full recipe for a crowd and had about two servings left over), and it is good either on its own or with chips.


I may or may not already have another batch of this dough resting in my fridge. The effort to payoff ratio is just too good.


When I bake fruit desserts, I often end up with so much extra liquid that I almost feel I should drain them off at the end. My peaches were actually a hair dry here, oddly enough. But I loved the pecan sandy topping and the ratio of peaches to cookie crumbs, so I would consider this one a winner.


My chocolate had some melting issues and my ice was a little chunkier than I would have liked, but even so, this was tasty. I may have to make it again soon . . . for recipe testing purposes, you understand. Maybe even with a little peppermint extract.


My sister-in-law made these for a family gathering, so I stole the recipe from her. I had to use blueberries because frozen raspberries were out of stock (cyclospora, perhaps?), so I added lemon zest along with the juice for the jam. Even though these do have 3 separate components to fuss with, they actually came together pretty easily. A deliciously summery dessert.


What I Created

  • Original blackout poem "The Poet"

  • Original Essay "Your Suffering Is Not an Escape Room" for Frontline Magazine

May your days be filled with beauty, and may your heart be filled with the willingness to see and give thanks for it.

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