

Winter's Content
little market, little man, and a little soup
One Summer Day in the Dordogne
You asked for poetry from me the other day. I looked, but I can’t find any inside my head. I’ve been preoccupied with making the most of...


The Reckoning
By the end of August I might be too tired to say this – I like the rhythm my life is developing. I wake up, clean up, water the plants at...


Becoming Lovely, The Right Way
I was almost on the plane to Austin this morning, but that was before I looked at the ticket prices. It seems ridiculous to pay nearly...


Chateau Commarque
Sidetracks and Saving Time Looking over the edge of the cliff, we spied what appeared to be a sleeping beauty of a castle, in a valley...


Under France: Hunting Truffles and More
The interlude in Provence and the Cote d’Azur over the new year holidays, was bright and refreshing, to be sure. Like a brand new bee, I...


Letters from France: How I Moved to France and Found True Love
How I Moved to France and Found True Love. The Long Run. Outside: A Cautionary Tale. I flip my little gem over and over, examining its...


Letters from France: Walking Peace
The church belfry is a hundred meters from the garret window. I watch the community of little brown birds that nestle against the...


Letters from France: Dying Light, Autumn in the Dordogne
Honey light coats the Dordogne landscape in the autumn. Rolling up and down country lanes basking in the late glow suits me in my vintage...


Letters from France: Getting to Know You
He is slim as a cigarette, with white skin, and black hair. His eyes are blue, the whites very white. From his lower lip to his neck, he...