When my children were little, we had a magical, organic, vegetable garden. We had tomatoes until December, green beans that made Jack-in-the-bean-stalk, look like any Tom-Dick-or-Harry-kind-of-ordinary-guy, and spinach that made Popeye,…

Today is a holiday in France. As it is a holiday, there are many antique markets happening around the area. I have set up tea for you in the garden. I’ll be back shortly, with what I have found, and…

This is me, the one who does not like her photo taken. A number of you have asked me to put up photos of myself…and I love dares, and I like to please others, and I am a easily led.…

Taking photos of each other is something we rarely do in our family. I don’t know why, it is just like that. Maybe it is because I do not like to my have photo taken. Maybe it is because I…

                 At the flea market I often see forgotten treasure boxes. Collection of memories in the form of bits and pieces. The boxes are not golden, nor crested in jewels. Often the treasure boxs are…

In my neck of the woods, there are fields upon little fields of poppies. Not California golden poppies, but red poppies. Poppies are spontaneous. Their colorful petals spread out like a picnic blanket over the fields. One can guess but…