My late wife was barely 5 feet high and didn’t weigh a diddle. Yet she could elbow her way through almost any encounter, even marriage.
Here come the handsome groom and the Florida-bred bride. There might’ve been gold dust in her makeup. Had to be platinum in her hair.
This has turned into a summer of the patio, a renaissance faire of gin and finger foods and homemade bean pie.
This is how we ended up eating live sea urchin, in the place they call “The Bu.”
I’ve always told my son: “Love is like Salisbury steak. You don’t see it much anymore. But you know it’s still out there somewhere.”
Like watermelon, "The Princess Bride" is almost uniformly delicious.
Why would a young couple pay a million bucks for an overcooked starter home in the Valley?
There’s rhubarb in the markets now, and the blueberries are all kinds of ripe.
I live one day at a time, like butterflies and bank robbers, sipping Chardonnay in the summer heat, keeping an eye out for the authorities.
LA never wowed me the way it wows some folks. Instead, it hooked me with a thousand little revelations.