Saturday, April 23, 2011



I am occasionally accused, wrongly so, I might add, of not listening. Or, worse, of being “tĂȘtue comme une mule”, headstrong and going my own way, not adapting to the necessities of the situation, of refusing to understand the needs and requirements of those around me. This usually, under normal circumstances, has to do with our sons. Yes, he has told me time and again that I speak to our sons as if they were daughters, explaining where no explanation is required, using too many words where one sharp No! would suffice. Of appealing to their better judgment, their feelings as sons, reasoning with them when all that I should be doing is setting down the law, our law, and giving them the iron eye if they attempt to argue. I negotiate, plead, understand, and, according to others, cave in. Instead of listening to him.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011


EXODUS or Let My People Go!

Zig, Puce and their trusty black and white sidekick Alfred have finally made a return appearance. The silly cartoon side of our couple has been in hibernation for much too long, huddling together in our secret hideaway, keeping together and keeping our heads low. Our once-weekly ramble through the vineyards on the outskirts of town took a downturn that arrived with hunting season and slogged on throughout the cold, wet months of autumn and winter. No fun strolling through mud, whistling or singing loudly so as not to be mistaken for the odd hare or deer as the shots ring out and whistle by. And then as trouble mounted, as our world began closing in with tough choices and tension had us in a stranglehold, we chose the safety of our cozy apartment, stuck close to home and took shelter in each other’s company. We survived on love, humor and baked goods, making plans as best we could, our dreams tempered by the odd dash of reality.

Saturday, April 9, 2011



I am just another big old softie, tearing up over black & white movies, ruggedly handsome tough guys and perky yet glamorous leading ladies never failing to fall into each other’s arms at the end, lips pressed together, camera fading into the distant horizon. The hefty weight of an old hardbound book in my hands, spine cracking as I riffle through in search of illustrations, following breathlessly the hopes of the most proper heroine battling against society’s rules, unable to declare her true passion for yet another ruggedly handsome man, a most eligible bachelor. I get all weepy over babies being born or people exchanging wedding vows, I am a sucker for happy endings. I adore traditions and festivities, am the first to start planning holidays or buying gifts, always as excited as a small child as birthdays approach. Entering anyone’s home I gravitate towards their bookshelves, staring at family photographs, skimming the titles of the books lining the walls, searching for secrets, wanting to know every tiny detail of their lives, understand who they really are.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011



We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection.
- Anais Nin

I am bursting with news, overflowing with stories, tales of Adventure and Excitement, Challenges and New Beginnings! Yes, indeed, each of these words, these ideas does demand to be scrawled across the page in capital letters! Big, bold and brash plans deserve to be proclaimed from the rooftops, achievements bragged about, courage flaunted! The excitement is palpable in our house and growing with each new step we take. This may not be the Giant Leap for Mankind, yet our own Small Step for Man has the power to change lives! We are moving forward to making plenty of announcements, I do hope, and I can hardly think of anything else! But for now, this is truly a waiting game and my lips must be sealed until things are settled, decisions taken, heads nodded.


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