ENGAGE

Check this out for an up-close-and-personal peek into the fictional mind of the main character in my debut novel, The Third Grace. Aglaia, a 32-year-old costume designer, was originally interviewed (through her creator, moi) by “Beyond the Books” during my online book tour last fall, but you might have missed reading her comments. * * * BTB: Thank you so much […]

My mom handed down to me this vintage four-quart Dutch Oven along with farm-girl instructions on how to stew a hen. The timing was perfect—it so happens that the main character in my current novel, Libby, has inherited just such a soup kettle from her own grandmother, and I’ve committed to making every broth and

My favourite destination is known as the “City of Lights,” and God is called the “Father of Lights.” Merely coincidence? Hmmm, I think not . . . Paris, to me, is heaven on earth! Here are some steps to connecting with the metaphysical while in the metropolis: Music is well said to be the speech

On a recent Sunday afternoon, I trod the 127 footsteps from the kitchen door down to the old elm tree by the creek—blissful backyard hideaway!—and sat with my husband like the old married couple we are on the lounge chairs he set side by side in amongst the marshy grasses. Wearied from his heavy workweek,

I visited my beloved Three Graces in Paris one month ago today—got to the Louvre early enough to avoid lines and was outta there before noon. I targeted the Richelieu wing and followed the map through the palace’s grand hallways and airy courtyards to find my stone-cold beauties awaiting me in their salon among other

I’m currently in the grips of a madly lustful affair with foie gras. This will come as no surprise to  readers of my recent Facebook postings from France, in which I detailed several of my trysts with various foods. I flirted with vin, I dallied with saucisson, I fairly threw myself at crème fraîche andchocolat. But I left the country with an empty wallet

Okay, I’ll admit I’ve had yearnings to be a hippie since the summer of ’69, when hitchhikers between Toronto and Vancouver wandered into Winnipeg’s Memorial Park with their groovy love beads. My tender age and general morality protected me from their bad habits if not their fashion tastes. I took to wearing flowers in my

There is nothing about the word “retreat” matching what I did this past weekend! I mean, sure, I joined the ladies from Temple Baptist Church out in the wilderness (so to speak) of southern Alberta: fifteen of us (and four nursing infants) settled into a great lodge built in the western tradition of sturdy peeled-log posts and

I’m a prairie girl besotted by BC’s old-growth forests. My husband and I just returned from a few days on Vancouver Island, where we walked the rainforest trail near Ucluelet, following along a wooden slatted path raised above the ground and wondering at the mystical beauty. My dreams are now full of cedars and hemlocks and firs,

It’s settled: I’m off to France in June for three weeks of Gallic culture! I’ve booked the cutest hotel in Paris for four nights; I’ll be meeting a couple of Parisian girlfriends, but I’m also planning to wander for hours by myself—to take in a couple of museums and the wonderful Les Puces flea market, to buy my new favourite