The Klatch
Eunice Reviews Rhubarb Bars From Three Kitchens
The Daybreak table reaches no consensus, except that more research may be necessary.
Read the full story →Vol. CXXIX — No. 22 · Archive Section
The Klatch & Living
Tuesday, June 2, 2026 · After Opener, Before Mosquitoes · Full weekly section page with current issue material, standing notices, and back-page items.
Living Features
The Klatch Board
Eunice’s Notebook
Rhubarb Bars From Three Kitchens
Eunice reports three rhubarb bars entered informal review this week. One had excellent crust, one had superior tartness, and one had ambition where sugar should have been.
The Daybreak table did not reach consensus, which means the matter remains open and further samples will be accepted.
Kitchen warning: do not substitute strawberries and then call it rhubarb. This paper has standards.
Personals & Thanks
From the Kitchen Table
- Congratulations to Oakview students on caring deeply about trout.
- Thank you to the road crew for waiting on the turtle, which is more than some drivers do for people.
Living · Stars Over the Chain
The Week in the Stars
As read by Sigrid Pelto, who has lived in Misquah her whole life — but for college, and the summer of 1995, when she and the girls did Europe on a rail pass and a woman in a Florence market took her hand and told her she had the gift. She reads from the end of her dock on Loon Lake.
Good news — Mercury goes forward again midweek, and you’ll feel the fog lift, though the tail of it lingers a few days, so the geese will still get discussed. It’s Gemini season, quick and chatty. And Venus is sweet on the garden just now, which is the stars’ way of explaining all this rhubarb.
Aries
A fellow stood up and talked about the geese for a good long while, and a part of you wanted to stand and cheer. Now Mercury’s going forward again, so your own stalled cause can move too. Put that fire toward something the geese can’t just waddle away from.
Taurus
Rhubarb everywhere, obligations everywhere — and you can handle both the same way. Take what you can use and leave the rest by the road marked free. Venus is sweet on you now. Plenty, well shared out, is just kindness with a recipe attached.
Gemini
It’s your season, and your planet goes forward midweek, so the fog lifts and the words come easy again. Make the last of it count — say the thing, take the drive, eat the second rhubarb bar. We only get one June apiece, and you’ve more than one self to spend it on.
Cancer
Your season’s right at the door, and the water’s finally warm enough for the both of you. Open the windows. Let summer find you on the porch — it’s looking for you in particular, and the Moon’s already told it which chair is yours.
Leo
The junior clinic turned out a child who out-drove a parent, and I’ve a feeling the parent was you. Let them have the win. Their swing, your sunny Saturday — your big heart is more than big enough to be out-driven by its own.
Virgo
They painted the center line right around a turtle, on purpose, and you’d have done it exactly so. There’s a tenderness in slowing for small lives, and it’s pure Virgo. With Mercury forward, your careful work holds now. Keep slowing. Keep noticing.
Libra
Two paddles for sale, one opinion thrown in free — and you’ve opinions to spare this week. Sell the paddles. Keep the opinions. Not every lopsided thing is yours to even out, and a kept-quiet thought is sometimes the most graceful trade there is.
Scorpio
There was a splash off Bass Lake, never explained, never repeated, and you can’t quite let it go. Let it go, dear. The shadow’s lingering, and the deep keeps better secrets than you do. That one was meant to be felt, not solved.
Sagittarius
The restlessness peaks this week, with the geese holding the seventh fairway and the roads finally dry. Mercury’s forward — so drive somewhere, anywhere, and bring rhubarb to hand out at the far end. We always brought our hostess a little something, over in Europe; it’s the same idea, and it travels.
Capricorn
You’ll be the one who actually reads the dock-permit notice clear through — thankless work, and the kind that holds the whole town up while the meetings argue. The stars see the quiet clerk in you, and they’re grateful, even when no one says so.
Aquarius
While the town’s busy arguing over the geese, you’ve quietly made your peace with them. Be the bridge, strange diplomat. Somebody’s got to talk to the geese, and it was always going to be you.
Pisces
Everything’s blooming faster than you can take it in — so don’t try to. Sit by the water one evening and let June be too much; that’s allowed. Being overfull isn’t the same as going under. Just float in it a while.
On Your Big Three. People ask me to explain the three big pieces, so here it is the way I learned it. Your Sun is who you are at the Daybreak counter, where everyone can see you. Your Moon is who you are at two in the morning, when the wind comes up off the lake and you can’t sleep. And your Rising is who the new pastor thinks you are, before he knows any better. I read all three by appointment, Tuesdays, out at the end of my dock — weather and coffee permitting. Bring your birth time if you’ve got it. Bring a thermos if you don’t.