Orson Welles never spoke to me on the phone. His secretary relayed messages between us, […]
I allowed my two beautiful daughters to survive their teenage years, and now they are charged with putting up with my dotage – a fair exchange. I don’t want to look like an old ewe in a lamb’s clothing!
Rumors of my being captured by pirates, spirited away to the stratosphere by aliens, or worse, are greatly exaggerated. It’s true that I’ve been buried, not by six feet of soil, but by bushels of fabulous French food!
We were off to a long-awaited cruise around the tip of South America, but I was harboring a secret that even my darling Tim couldn’t guess.
I loved my stolen afternoon at Filoli for many reasons, but this time, in addition to lifting my heart and spirits with the beauty that always awaits me there, visiting alone gave me a great opportunity to renew my acquaintance with myself.
“Everything was just perfect once we finally adjusted to the barking dog down the street!” “You really don’t need air conditioning in July in Florence,” and other myths revealed.