Anna Jacobs died a year ago on the same day in the Jewish calendar that her beloved husband Jack passed away eight years before. That was a poetic synchronicity that reflects the wonder of her life. She couldn’t have known consciously that it was the date. She had not seen a calendar in weeks.  Did… Read more »

I am in my beloved French countryside in a tiny hamlet in southwestern France. I have close relationships with neighbors, some of whom I have known for 30 years now. Yesterday, for a lark, Roz Jacobs and I took an hour-long drive through the countryside to go to a vide greniers (literally an emptying of… Read more »