
Kvennafridagurinn, October 24, 1975, Women’s Day Off in Iceland
My husband gives me an A for last night’s supper, an incomplete for my ironing, a B plus in bed. My son says I’m average,
My husband gives me an A for last night’s supper, an incomplete for my ironing, a B plus in bed. My son says I’m average,
Of our many hikes in the Southwestern United States, we both look back at one in awe—short, sweet and a palette of pinks—Lower Hackberry Canyon.
Vers sera, specialmente, par de essere in cielo. The Piedmont writer, Cesare Pavese, wrote this about the village of Càstino, on whose outskirts we rented
“Where your world ends, ours begins.” It’s a common saying on Haida Gwaii.
Getting dressed up for dinner at a restaurant has never been our Valentine’s Day date. Harried wait staff, set menus and inflated prices were the
Nowhere else have we travelled where the sky so big, the light so clear, the landscape so revealing, the quiet so widespread, the solitude so
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