Found an old rickety bookshelf with glass doors. Fell in love with it. Though I had no idea where I would put it- Love has a way of making room. Carried it upstairs, well French Husband carried it upstairs. Then…

  Too soon.  When I think that you are gone it is unimaginable, a sadness rushes over me, and as the tide hits I see you in one of my many memories and a smile pours over my face.  How…

    The old French book says, "The Art of Love." Now that is a book I can judge by its cover.    

My Mother called me Cinderella, not because I wore glass slippers, nor for my flare for transforming mice into men, but because I was the oldest child followed by four brothers. Needless to say, whenever a house-chore had to be…

  Truly it is the little things that matter. Such as thank you and please. Little things like a smile from a stranger, someone holding the door open, or like the leaf the falls gracefully from the tree’s crown.  The…

    Living in such a place where the moment I walk outside I am instantly taken deep inside something that exist within me, outside of me and all around, it becomes me in each breath. An eternity here and…