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Sunday Story May 24, 2015

From an early age it was clear I was culinarily-challenged. As a teenager at boarding school in England I once smuggled in an illegal instrument for the purpose of home cooking in my dorm room. The contraption was a metal rod the length of a finger and attached to an electric cord. The idea was you stuck the metal part into a cup of water and then rammed the plug into a socket. Theoretically one could make a cup of t
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Golf Cart Racing Team

One time I had a boyfriend who liked to play golf. Any female in my position knows the tedium of trailing behind the avid golfer and the near impossibility of feigning interest. Luckily for me this golf course in Westchester where BF was a member was near his country house and this house was filled every weekend with contingents of both of our friends. So one weekend I decided to jazz things up by encouraging my girl
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Perspective

My first husband, the painter, and I and our Persian cat traveled from Fire Island to New York City, we were headed to visit my mother-in-law at her place on East 62nd Street. The boat we motored from our little dock to the ferry quay sank, with all of our possessions, including the husband’s paintings. I saved our cat stuck in her carrier with its front grill quickly filling with water. She clung to my head, welded
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Swaying Palms

Down near the touristy end of Duval Street there are many attractions. One is the Indian swami in his booth. He sits in his white alcove, dressed in layers of floaty white things. His dark eyes are serene and his narrow face ends in a pointy white beard. I’ve never seen him smile, I’ve never seen him laugh, I’ve never seen him angered. But I always see him, seated at his table in his alcove and inva
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Reader, Are You Out There?

Are you there? Is anyone reading my posts here on this website? I ask this because I get no feedback on this site and will happily close it down if no one is reading me here. Every Sunday morning I post these same stories on Facebook and LinkedIn and LOVE comments. But no need to use up my time posting here if …. if … there’s no one visiting?
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French Fried

Years ago I lived in Paris with an artist, how cliché! We shared a ground floor apartment (read: lean-to) in a courtyard of perpetually damp buildings. The entrance was the kitchen and also the bathroom with a half tub covered with a plywood board. The roof was corrugated plastic so that during rain storms, it was deafening. The toilet was hidden in a cramped closet and here we nailed shelves and stacked them with bo
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Mouthful

Join me please as I trip down the incomprehensible trail of proper nouns. I ask you this, what is with the peanut? When I owned my hill in southern Colombia I grew peanuts, not on purpose, they managed to grow themselves springing right out of the ground. My only contribution was to sit amongst them, and eat them, raw and delicious, despite the local’s many ways of roasting them or crushing them into ‘but
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On The Trail

My NYC pal Spencer glommed on and the three of us trickled south along the Honduran coast. Turned out Spencer was repairing a splintered heart. He got no sympathy from sullen Ivan. One day at a restaurant on a beach Spencer and I shared lunch as we watched Ivan strolling in the surf, inevitably swirled by excitable kids like gulls around a fisherman’s haul. Spencer, the grandson of an American President with his own
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Lost & Found

I WHILED AWAY A fortnight on Ambergris Cay in an unadorned room above a liquor store. Still I was restless and I took a short flight to the mainland followed by a long bumpy bus journey westward to northern Guatemala. Here I roamed an archaeological park and scaled the partly excavated pyramid of Tikal. Oversized stone steps covered with heavy mosses and loose rocks and slowly I clambered as far as I could go until I
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