In Love with France, At Home In Italy

This is the weirdest kind of fan letter, but I know that you will understand. How many times have I read book reviews in the New York Times that made me want to run right out and read the book, yet I never follow up on it? Well, this time started out as only a minor exception. I was cautious. I asked the library to buy the book so I could see if my instinct that we were meant for each other was right. As a so-called writing expert and specialist in French literature, I do not give my writing heart up to just anyone. But the evidence that you might be the one was there. As I think back to that article I'm trying to recall just what it was that snared me. Was it the lavender? I never actually thought I'd like its scent, but now that I have become a newborn in Italy, I have a special relationship with this flower whose relaxing and sleep-inducing properties I have come to appreciate. Or was it all of those references to Marcel Proust? Well he and I have had a thorny relat...

While visiting our old friends B and L for the first time in a long while, I found myself taking a fresh look around. The sheer amount of STUFF everywhere, as beautiful and interesting as it may have been, felt oppressing. I was reminded about how frightening I find the idea of divesting myself of the stuff in my house and office, poised as I am on the cusp of some big life changes. L and I looked through thousands of her photos and she was eager for me to choose some that she would print up for me. There were many beautiful ones, but the sheer quantity of it all was overwhelming. I am trying to understand what it would feel like to produce so many pieces of art in various media without a plan for them to find a home. It's true that we rightly teach kids to value "process over product," but still... I hold back from acquiring more things because to add to my stash reminds me that I am on the wrong side of the life cycle. Unlike many people who enjoy buying new ...

DEAF SENTENCE COMMUTED? This next posting on deafness has a “prequel” that involves my gorgeous mother-in-law who, even at 91, still looked like a million bucks. But as for her hearing, that started to go long before any of her other faculties. Despite her quite perfect figure (she worked out at the gym regularly, well into her 80’s), one of her most endearing characteristics was her lifelong enthusiasm for food. One summer when she was visiting us at the Squam Lake bungalow we rented for many years, we were sitting around the dinner table chowing down on burgers when my husband and son mumbled something to each other that she could not hear. That was well before she had reluctantly agreed to having her hearing tested. In attempting to smooth over the situation, I piped up with something that was true: “I also have trouble hearing the TIMBRE of their voice.” She brightened right up, and quipped, “What? More hamburger?” We all laughed, her included, and from that moment, whe...