In Saudi Arabia the heat is baked into your skin, which is always coated with a thin layer of dust. The first month we are there a massive dust storm whips through Riyadh and I find piles of sand on my window sills and on the leaves of the basil plant that struggles valiantly to survive in our scrap of a yard.
So much has happened since I last wrote here in the spring — our Gravenstein apples ripened, were picked and turned into pie, and are now a distant memory until next year; my little…
I was on deadline when I started writing this post and now that my deadline has come and gone and my story published I realized I never returned to finish it. And I should,…
Friends, hello — those of you who are still here, anyway. Despite my best intentions writing regularly here never quite pans out. The will is there … it’s just the free time that is…
I’ve been trying to write this post all morning but I’m a wee bit sleep deprived so it’s been slow going. Suddenly it’s almost 3 p.m. California time and I’ve got meat balls chilling…