-
In Loving Memory of John.
I was downstairs, when I heard a heavy thump, from upstairs. A dull silence filled the space in between. I called your name,…
-
Terms of Endearment
"Mommy, why does Kristi call Max Honey? Why doesn't she call him Peanut-Butter?" Sacha asked when he was three. Some of…
-
Three Short Stories on French Postcards
Sitting with her heart she recalled the days of summer. When she ran along the beach chasing after waves and collecting seashells. Mother and Child start a journey. The beginning…
-
Letters Exchanged with Miss Molly
Dear Aunt Corey, When are you going to come down? You have to as I have been waiting forever. So you…
-
-
-
The Way to a Man’s Heart is through his Stomach
French husband loves to eat. I was taught that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. It stands to reason…
-
Heart Song
A woman wrote me saying her heart was heavy. She didn't know who to turn to. She asked if I would listen. Have you ever wanted to fill someone's heart…
-
Going Barefoot
My daughter is growing up. I stare at her is disbelief. Wasn’t it a few days ago that I was singing, "This little piggy goes to the market, this little…
-
Dinner Party Par Terre
When the guests arrived everything was in its place. Candles lite, music turn down low, wine opened, lipstick applied, the table set. Mingle…
Categories
- Brocante
- French la Vie Creative Journeys
- Living in France
- Movable Feast
- My French Husband
- My Friend Annie
- Olivia and Gabriel
- Our Apartment in Paris
- Our Fisherman's House on the port of Cassis
- Palestine, Helping Mohammed and his Family
- Poetic Rambling
- Sacha & Chelsea
- Travels
- Uncategorized
- Willows, Memories from Back Home