My dear friend Andie’s lovely apartment in the 15th Arrondissement is now available for a minimum of two weeks. The apartment is 1500 S/F, located in an authentic Paris neighborhood. It is light, bright, and exquisitely furnished. There are two bedrooms, two baths, a study (which can sleep two), and a newly remodeled kitchen loaded with everything you’d need to produce fabulous meals. The three-story building is on a cul-de-sac, so there is no traffic. It’s quiet, secure, and filled with high-end, comfortable furniture, art, and kitchen equipment. There’s a wine fridge, a dishwasher, a washer ..read more

Summer concerts in our local parks have always strengthened my appreciation for small-town America. Seeing families out for an early evening adventure is a pleasure. Watching little girls in their colorful dresses dancing and giggling and boys chasing each other through the ancient trees make me nostalgic for my grandchildren’s early years. Teens posturing self-consciously as they try to impress everyone with their cool-dude swagger make me smile. Massive oaks fill the park with dappled late afternoon sunshine. Seeing folks spreading blankets on the grass and popping open camping chairs as the ..read more

Orson Welles never spoke to me on the phone. His secretary relayed messages between us, and for many weeks, the exchanges were lighthearted and cordial. I was mounting a campaign for his film, F for Fake, for the distributor, one of my PR outfit’s clients. Our first meeting was on a dark and stormy night (no kidding) at his rented villa high above Hollywood’s Sunset Boulevard. I nervously banged on the immense door’s heavy knocker and was stunned as it was flung open by the man himself.  He and I were alone in that immense house, but Orson was so genuine and charming that I quickly f ..read more

Susan Polk has been a dear friend for many years. You might even say that she was with us every step of the way in our home-free adventures. Not because she traveled with us, of course (that might get awkward and probably isn’t ideal for running a brick-and-mortar insurance business in SLO), but because she provided the coverage we needed that made our dream possible. International travel is great for seniors, and so is Medicare. Unfortunately, the two don’t mix. Stateside insurance plans don’t follow you overseas. If you’re going to live home-free, it is essential to have the right internatio ..read more

I allowed my two beautiful daughters to survive their terrible teenage years, and they have grown into capable, strong women whom I admire greatly and love deeply. I live near them and their families, so we see each other often and speak nearly every day. They are discreet and patient as they watch me search for words and forget appointments, but we do talk frankly about what’s essential to their dear mother – her appearance. I admit that vanity is among my nany shortcomings. The girls and have some pacts concerning this topic, and I depend on them to follow my instructions when I’m no longer ..read more

I’ve lost my voice. Oh, I can still speak. That’s part of the problem. Writing unnecessary emails, blabbering away on Facebook and Twitter, engaging in pleasurable but unproductive busywork, and jabbering with family and friends has made my writing voice hoarse. Pure laziness has taken its toll, too. After a few months of succumbing to those distractions, the place in my brain where the writer lives started dosing off. The tyrant of purpose soon went to sleep, and quickly the writer part of my grey matter slipped into REM. Not writing phase began with the ecstasy of having no assignments. I de ..read more

  My dearest friend and I speak almost every day now. Fran has been my linchpin, a constant connection in my peripatetic life, my guide, confidant, cheerleader, consoler, and BFF for 60 years. Since she’s ten years older and therefore much wiser, I have benefitted from her predictions of what to expect as each decade unfolds. Galloping arthritis, sketchy memory, the growing list of departed friends and family, and adjusting to elderliness are all predictable topics, but coping with the craziness that has persisted for the past four years is a new wrinkle, you should pardon the pun. Fran ..read more

Billy Erwin was my first boyfriend, and we’re still in touch via FaceBook. We were 14. Billy’s mother drove us downtown to see a Doris Day rom-com. The tune, “Hold My Hand,” figured into the treacly plot, and when his sweaty palm reached for my equally damp paw, the rush was phenomenal. Billy, now Bill to everyone but me, was the first of many fellows who would make my heart race. Some also tried their damndest to break it, and several succeeded. I’ve dated, and sometimes married, men for almost seventy years, so I have quite a lot to say on the subject. After that sweet evening with Billy (I ..read more

I’ve quit whining about how old I am. No more fishing for comforting compliments to hear, “You look terrific – you couldn’t possibly be that old.” I’ve finally come to appreciate being an old dame, one who knows a thing or two about a thing or two. Best of all, most of the time I can even remember where I parked my car. An eighty-year-old face greets me in the mirror every morning, and surprisingly, I’m not repelled by her. The bones are the same, but the upholstery has changed. The “line fairy” comes every night now, leaving behind new wrinkles, brown age spots, and carry-on luggage added to ..read more

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! Lynne and Deborah hard at work doing research in a Paris Bistro. My long-time friend and, respected chef, Deborah Scarborough, and I talked for years over many bottles of good French wine about doing a project together. We explored all kinds of notions and finally came up with the idea of exploring the French’s way with food.  As a result, we spent two years writing, testing re ..read more