I saw my first Vermeer when I was around ten-years-old. It came together over the course of countless months as I watched my grandmother needlepoint a myriad of colors stitch by stitch into a piece that she christened My Little… Read More ›
It’s Saturday, April 1st and my grandson, Jack, is about to board a plane. Pat and I flew ahead last weekend. We are waiting for him on the other side. In Paris. Our apartment is set up. Our jet lag… Read More ›
We had just crossed the border from Spain into France last month when Pat sighed and said, “It’s nice to be back home.” It was, to my mind, an odd thing for him to say. I think of Pat as… Read More ›
After four weeks, we’re headed north. On the train from Seville to Madrid, I have 2 1/2 hours to write this post before we arrive for a 48-hour whirlwind stop. It’s been four weeks of blissful sunshine. Four weeks of… Read More ›
We’ve been in Seville for nearly 3 weeks. It’s a trip we had planned before we took back our apartment in Paris. An example of a trip, Pat pointed out during our pre-lease-signing negotiations, that won’t happen once we have… Read More ›
The World In Between 