As long as the Rollings Stones continue performing, I’ll continue going to their concerts. The first time I saw the Stones, it was their second U.S. performance, June 6, 1964, at Teen Fair in San Antonio, Texas. I was there–by myself–to see Bobby Vee and Paul Peterson from the “Donna Reed” show. As far as the Rolling Stones go, you might say I’m a pioneer; one of the first. They changed my life but Paul Peterson? I don’t remember much about him.
This September I’m going to see the Stones again—by myself—only this concert is in Lucca, Italy.
I was borrowing a cup of sugar from my neighbor down the street and noticed that in her dining room, she had artfully stacked books on the table and chairs. The volumes belonged to her parents, both of whom who had passed away. As my friend was sorting through the estate, the books found a home on the table, and the effect was utterly charming. I had to take photos.
Incidentally, this is why I borrow cups of sugar. And why some friends don’t always answer my ring. Who can blame them? I’m Gladys Kravitz with a DSLR and a tripod. Continue Reading
After every other great vacation I have always been glad to get home. Glad to sleep in my own bed and see all of my “stuff” again. This time was different. It became obvious when we chose to stay another day in Houston, and then chose to spend the night at Lake Georgetown, rather than going directly to our RV garage and unloading from there… We were both stalling.
When I was unpacking my dishes and cookbooks that had been in storage for 10 years, I took a break to watch Rick Bayless’s PBS series, “Mexico One Plate at a Time.” A chef and restaurateur, Rick specializes in traditional Mexican cuisine. As he talked about the subtle, but complex dishes of Oaxaca, I was reminded of the many meals I’ve eaten in Mexico and Central America over the years.
One meal, in particular, I’ll never forget.
I just returned from my honeymoon. We took a week on the Crystal Serenity and, boy oh boy… It was hard to leave that ship. Between our honeymoon and my birthday, I was drowned in celebratory champagne. When the drink of the day is champagne and St-Germain – one of my absolute favorites – you know you’ve found your tribe. Continue Reading
We drove to Madrid (pronounced Mad-Rid) to see dear friends for Thanksgiving and to take our first long-distance trip in our motor home. We also wanted to decompress from daily life in Austin, Texas, a city that continues to grow by leaps and bounds. Continue Reading
Sometimes I get overwhelmed with disdain for myself. Those days when I can’t get out of my own way, I just want to sit on the curb; put my head in my hands and hope someone will come along and offer me an ice cream cone.
I had one of those moments when I renewed my drivers license. I rearranged my schedule so I wouldn’t miss the deadline; went on-line to ensure my parking tickets had been paid; downloaded and completed the renewal form and went to a satellite office–rather than the fustercluck downtown–to save a few precious hours, waiting in line. I even went so far as to blow dry my hair so my picture wouldn’t look like a mug shot. Continue Reading
I woke up last Monday to an email from a friend that said, “Come to Jerusalem today. Your trip will be paid for!” It was from a close girlfriend I’ve known for over 30 years. Amazing even myself, I was packed and on a plane within hours of the email. Then it hit me. I’m heading to Israel for the first time.
I’ve always wanted to go, but schedule, kids or something else kept me from going. This time I was unencumbered and ready with a free spirit to embrace new things. Continue Reading
Most people have a “bucket list” but I never wanted to call mine that because it implies you want to cram all of these things in before you die. You know, as in “kick the proverbial bucket.” The focus there isn’t on joy or inspiration, it’s on racing against an imaginary grim reaper. After much thought, I decided to call my list The Love List.
On my first trip to Paris I went alone. I was in my mid-20s and new to living in London, whilst my first husband was working in Africa. I knew, however, I didn’t want to experience the City of Love with him. Whilst he wasn’t a bad man, he could be unpredictable at times, and my vision of Paris didn’t include emotional outbursts under the Eiffel Tower. And by emotional outbursts, I don’t mean passionately kissing. Continue Reading