As far as I could tell, my French host family owned one phone, a rotary, and it held court on a small console table in their lace-curtained parlor. The table stood all alone next to the doorway, so we had … Continue reading
One summer during college, I went on a retreat with my Catholic youth group. And not just any retreat, but a canoeing retreat. It took place at Canada’s stunningly beautiful Algonquin Provincial Park and I regretted it from the moment … Continue reading
This post is the second installment of my half-baked series about the year my best friend and I spent living in Tours, France. In case you missed it, you can read the first part here. Good Catholic girls that we … Continue reading
It was fun and games on the flight from Detroit to Paris. In the early nineties, you couldn’t get lung cancer or give other people emphysema on a Trans Atlantic flight, so as soon as our plane took off, Beck … Continue reading
Shortly after P-Dawg and I first started dating, I explained to him that I preferred not to hold hands. It was fine if we were in a movie theater or something, just not while walking, okay? My future husband was … Continue reading
