I love love love Throwback Thursday. I love old pictures from my past. I love old pictures from your past. I really do want to admire your grandmother’s wedding dress, or glory in your father’s old racing car, the one he crashed that time. And your mother never let him race again…or so she thought. I love every old baby photo that is posted, especially if it is of you as a baby, or your mother as a baby. I love to see that old dog of yours when he was a puppy and still fallin

Musician, Barcelona Barcelona, we’ve only just met, and I’m already on my way. I’d prefer to stay awhile, maybe have to go to the grocery store to make a real meal to serve to friends to really feel like I’m getting to know you, but it’s not to be. I remember when rushing into a new town, frantically seeing all the famous sights, walking my legs off and staying in hotels was my idea of blissful travel. Not now, I see. I find I like to get there and stay awhile, like I do i

Montserrat, Barcelona So, I’m a reluctant tourist at best. Short attention span at best. And best at being the tourist who has a companion leading the way. So I don’t have to think or plan or pay attention– But here I am, exploring a new place, alone. Which is how I like it, so as a tourist, I’m in a little bit of trouble. Take yesterday and a nice little jaunt to Montserrat, an old monastery an hour and a half outside of Barcelona, up in the mountains. I wanted to go for

The Tulips Go With the Walls I’m on vacation…a working vacation, but let’s not split hairs. There’s a great big tv sitting opposite a great big couch, which is positioned dangerously close to my computer. Because even though my back is to the couch and tv when I’m sitting at the computer, I feel their eyes on me, drawing me back to daytime tv. This summer I discovered HGTV. Who knew?! Did you know? All those fabulous shows?! Omigod. I’ve been in heaven. It all started w

Rain So, I don’t like road trips in the first place. Maybe it’s because I live in Southern California, and to say I live in my car is not to exaggerate the situation. But I don’t think I ever liked them, even though the childhood road trips were as pleasant as my mother could make them. These included bi-annual trips from Massachusetts to Kentucky where my parents had grown up. It was on one of those trips, that I left my blanket behind in one of the motels on the way, and