Pease Help Me!
Driving in Sicily was just like Spice and me sailing with our friends Don and Marg years ago, ninety percent boredom and ten percent panic;
Driving in Sicily was just like Spice and me sailing with our friends Don and Marg years ago, ninety percent boredom and ten percent panic;
I’ve got the ‘Novembers’. It’s not a terminal case, but I thought just telling you would somehow ease it. No real reason. Just the time of year
Were I four decades younger and had the means to live in any city in the world, the white cobblestones of Lisbon would be a
“I have to have this book,” I told Ruth Ann. “You know how much I love all things lemon. And Sicily.” This spring Magellan and
The van slowed to a stop. Never mind that we were on a sinuous road, narrowed on both sides by Menorca’s parets secas, mortarless stone
The other day I was seeding a pomegranate, such a sensual fruit with its ruby-red arils clustered together. It got me thinking about Granada, the
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