My son Sacha asked, "Mom how will I know when to turn the other cheek, or to grab the person’s hand and say no." photo: Cast iron hands used for making gloves.

Photo taken at Lauren’s home. A gathering, like twigs in a nest, one by one, we arrived at Lauren’s home for a party amongst blogging friends. Photo: Vintage French party girl, with a pink bow in the right place. I…

The morning pours through the windows of my Godmother’s home. It is going to be a beautiful day. How many of you can say you slept on a porch, in a flower bed? You see I wasn’t joking, my Godmother…

Trust the hands of friendship that come your way… The giving and receiving,  the gentle and the strong. The hand that asks you to hold on, and the one that helps you to let go. Be the loving hand that…

Being back in my childhood home my thoughts turn around family, and the life I had when I lived here. The familiar objects tell me stories I do not hear in France, nor do they share the same meaning. I…

                Within each of us, there is a dream wanting to wake up and become real, tangible, whole, and complete. Within each of us, there is a past, present, and future in collaboration with the…