As well as writing such lengthy literary classics as Anna Karenina and War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy turned his hand to writing stories for younger readers. Most of the works in the collection above, translated here by Leo Wiener, had their seed in primers which Tolstoy wrote for the school which he established in 1849 for peasant children at his country estate, Yasnaya Polyana (Clear Glades). In the huge variety of tales – through a host of kings, hermits, peasants and talking animals – he expounds his clear vision for a more human and socially just society.
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Vivienne, my new granddaughter
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I can’t wait to read this to Vivi. I want to give her a head start not only in reading, but appreciating great literature from all over the world. And more.
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Granada, Spain which we just returned from.
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I want her to understand the world and all the wonderful differences it offers if she has the courage to go see. I believe world travel is crucial to properly appreciate your own life. I like to say that it changes your brain chemistry. It changes your life and how you look at your own life and home.

We spend all year thinking about and discussing where we are going next. We have a list of places we want to return to: Seville, Paris, Jerusalem. But there are more places we still have to go to: China, Russia, and next-India and Nepal.

And there’s always the surprises that you visit, like Tangier, Morocco that we just returned from. You can see our visit here:

If you haven’t made it overseas yet-go. Find a way. Be brave. It will change your life. We’ve gone to Paris during the strikes. We went to Istanbul during Ramadan. In Granada, which is like a European version of New Orleans because it’s so full of European twenty and thirty somethings partying their brains out, we stood at a bar packed full of screaming, drunk Europeans and tasted fried eggplant covered in brown cane syrup. Melinda looked at me after she first tasted it and said through the roar,”It’s worth it.”

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Yes it is, Melinda. Yes it is.

Melinda’s latest blog on our family’s week. She knows how to tell the story! You can read all her blogs at melindalittleblogs.com.
BABIES, FAMILY, KIDS, LIFESTYLE, MARRIAGE, UNCATEGORIZED

It’s a Girl!

Posted by MELINDALITTLEBLOGS.COM on NOVEMBER 4, 2016

This week I met the most adorable little girl. She is all of five pound two ounces, and she has only been in this world for just a few days. She has already stolen my heart though. Who knew such a little package could cause such overwhelming emotion? Her name is Vivi and she is my first grandchild.

Vivienne Belle, 5 lbs. 2 oz.I remember when her mother was born 30 some odd years ago and then her uncles after that. I remember those emotions; the fear, the love, the exhaustion. I remember holding that sweet bundle and being amazed by it all. I remember my first time labor, and the subsequent labors, the pain, the look of terror in my husband’s eyes, the rapid activity of the nurses and doctor preparing to bring a new life into the world and then the overwhelming love. While I didn’t know exactly what to expect the first time I had seen enough TV to have a bit of an idea of the organized chaos in the labor room.

I remember as a mom who was having the baby I never thought much about the stress there might been for my mom and my extended family. They had all been through this before, so I just assumed they were old pros. Consequently, I was not prepared for the roller coaster ride of the few days leading up to the birth of my first grandchild. It has left me emotional and exhausted. My daughter was admitted to the hospital Monday morning with severe preeclampsia. I really did not know much about preeclampsia until this week. Yes, Downton Abby fans that is exactly what Lady Sybil died from in Season 3, so, yes, my mind not only went there, it RUSHED there with lightning speed. Of course, that show was set pre-World War II so there have been significant advances in the treatment of this disease.

The call from her on Monday sent my heart racing. My fear for her was more than it had ever been for me. Despite my co-worker’s warning I immediately Googled it to find out what it meant. While I know you are never supposed to do that, it actually calmed me down in this instance because it helped me understand not only what it was, but also how easily it was treated. The issue for today’s doctors are to ensure they diagnose it early and to be able to control the disease long enough to keep mom stable until the pregnancy is far enough along to deliver a healthy baby. The cure is very simple. The doctor only needs to deliver the baby. In cases where the disease onset is early in the pregnancy the balancing act can be tricky, and can involve bed rest or near bed rest for the duration and sometimes even long hospital stays and medication. The disease can significantly increase your blood pressure and show signs of damage to your organs, usually the kidneys or liver, which can cause death if left untreated. We were lucky in her case because Katie was already almost 35 weeks and so the baby was viable. In fact, she was abale to stay in the room with Katie and Patrick right away.

Weeks before, my daughter and her husband had asked for the grandparents, other family and friends not come to the hospital to wait for the impending birth. They did not want us

Happy Birthday, Vivienne Belleto have to sit for hours waiting only to get a short glimpse of mom and baby, and then be sent home. I also think they wanted this to be as private a moment as it could be for them with 20 medical personnel working in the room. They did not want the pressure of dealing with us and everything else. So on the afternoon of Vivi’s birth I kissed my daughter goodbye and told her that the next time I saw her she would be a mom. While on paper that sounded easy and less exhausting than hanging out in the waiting room for hours, I did not realize how worried I would be about my daughter and the baby, or how far the drive to the hospital was from my house in the event something went wrong. Being there close by would have probably given me a little comfort and that 2 second glance would have been welcomed. I likely would have slept a lot better that night than I did. Our FaceTime introduction was nice of course, but not quite the same as reading the faces of the nurses and doctors. I was not completely relieved until the next morning when I saw Katie’s face and held sweet Vivi.

Those of you reading this who are parents of adult children know the struggle. You understand the delicate balance of respecting boundaries while satiating the need to assure yourself they are ok. I remember when my kids each went off to college, and how

Uncle David and Uncle Will call and text a lot now!worried I was if I had not heard from them in a couple of days. The boys were definitely much worse about returning calls and texts than my daughter. I can remember sending both Will and David text after text with no response then finally sending a text that said, “If you are not dead please type something!” Often after a few hours I would get back a one word or one letter response saying, “fine” or “k”. Hearing their voice would have been a lot better, but I took what I could get. The experience of waiting of for Vivi to be born was a bit like that. I didn’t want to be too intrusive, and Katie and Patrick were very accommodating about sharing information, but I just felt better when I was there and I could see her.

Of course, I know in my head this is ridiculous. Had I been there nothing would have changed. Plus, I know the other side of this coin. I was a young mother once married to a young dad. I understand the need to be together as a family. The importance of bonding with your child in the first few hours after she arrives. I know my job of raising my daughter is done. I think my husband and I have done well. We raised three great adults including a new mom who is a strong, independent woman, married to a strong, loving man. Katie and Patrick have a wonderful relationship built on trust, friendship and commitment.

I know my role was to raise my children then let them fly. I also know that no matter how far they fly, no matter how well they turn out, the love you have for them, the pride you feel is always coupled with worry. It is ingrained. It is genetic. We are hardwired for this. I have no regrets or apologies for feeling this way. It is because I love her, love her brothers with all that I am that I will always want to see them happy, safe and secure. When things are hard or rocky or scary I will always extend my hand if ever so slightly just to make sure they are able to stand steady and strong.

Now that Katie and Patrick have a daughter their lives are forever changed. They will in the

Getting ready for the best times ahead.many years to come understand the struggle. They will soon realize that no matter how old she is, their love and worry for Vivi will always be there. They will understand that with the joy of watching her fly comes the fear of her letting go. They will extend a hand to steady her as she takes off first to walk and then again many more times over many more years. I look forward to watching as the next generation learns to let go and let baby fly. I think it will be a lot of fun from the grandmother chair.

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Waiting for Surprises

Posted by MELINDALITTLEBLOGS.COM on NOVEMBER 1, 2016

I have never been good at waiting. I am that person who turns to the last few pages of a novel to see how things end even though I have barely read the first chapter. It is a really silly thing to do actually because after just starting a book skipping to the end usually leaves me more confused than satisfied. There are always important characters who have yet to be introduced at the beginning of the story, so I find myself scanning through the book trying to figure out how they relate to the story. It is a viscous cycle that usually ends with me giving up and reading the book as it was intended.

When I was a little girl I was always so excited about Christmas that I would often sneak

My Christmas Tree 1970’s

around during the season trying to find where my mom hid the presents. I was very good at ferreting out her hiding places, but when I couldn’t find the presents I would wait until they were wrapped under the tree. I would deftly open them and then wrap them back up. I am a little embarrassed, but also pretty impressed with myself that at a very young I had an almost savant ability at unwrapping and rewrapping gifts leaving returning them to under the tree as if they had never been touched. While I was always excited by the gifts when I found them, I was always equally disappointed Christmas morning because everyone else was so delighted by their surprises and I had ruined mine. I was a smart and stupid little girl.

This year when my daughter found out she was pregnant I found myself once again waiting on another big surprise, but this time there was no opportunity to figure it out. She and her husband, Patrick decided to wait to find out the sex of the baby. It was such an old fashioned, lovely idea even if I was little annoyed. When Katie was born, the ultra sound, as part of a normal course of pregnancy, was relatively new. My mother certainly never had an ultrasound and likely the test did not exist when she was pregnant with me. Heck, back when my mom was pregnant nice people did not even use the word “pregnant,” yet alone share pictures of their unborn children.

Because of some complications with my pregnancy with Katie (my first) I had three

Ultrasound of Katie’s head and leg

ultrasounds over the last couple of months. As the person who spent her youth unwrapping Christmas presents before Christmas, when asked if I wanted to know the sex of the baby I answered, “Yes!” almost before the question could be posed. The technology was not what it is today back in 1985. There were no 3-D images. Many of you reading this blog probably remember seeing that grainy black and white negative like photo with an outline of what might be a baby inside a cone shaped sphere.

How anyone could tell anything from that always amazed me. With the first two

Katie 2 hours old

ultrasounds of Katie, the doctor said, “Now don’t go home and paint the nursery blue, but I am pretty sure it is a boy”. Of course, after that we were sure it was boy, so when the third ultrasound just hours before her birth showed it was clearly a girl, we really did not believe it. Yet, just a few hours later we were introduced to our first child and only daughter, our sweet Katie.

There were a couple downsides to being told that she was a boy before she was born. While we didn’t paint it blue, the nursery was done in primary colors with Gear bear wallpaper instead of the frills and soft pastels I would never see in my nursery. At my shower we received a lot little blue onesies and sleepers that did not fit sweetness of our little girl. Of course the upside of being surprised, of the joy, of the love of and for a daughter far outweighed the gear bears in the nursery or the run to ToysRUs to exchange the clothes after she was born.

When Katie told us this year that they were waiting to know if it was a boy or a girl I was a little disappointed. I thought about that nursery and the boys’ clothes, and told her she may never get another chance to decorate the nursery in that perfect color, but she was adamant. As we get closer I have really enjoyed the waiting and the guessing and the speculating. It has been fun to think about what the baby might be. My son-in-law has actually written down our guesses and told us we can change our minds up until the birth.

A good friend at work shared a story with me today. He and his wife had also decided to wait until the baby was born to know the sex. He said he would encourage everyone to do this. He shared that a nurse along their journey told them she knew what the sex of the baby was. Since a boy has a body part that is more distinguishable than a girl they were convinced it was boy. Once the baby was born the doctor turned to my friend to show him the baby, and he was stunned to meet his new daughter! He said it was absolutely the best moment ever.

We are definitely in the count down phase of her pregnancy, so we will know soon enough. My husband and I have guessed the baby is a girl. Most everyone else thinks it is a boy. We have no scientific evidence to give us any indication of any of our guesses. Just old wives tales about how she is carrying the baby or a gut feelings. We have had several conversations in the last few days about it. I really have no real idea and I really don’t care. I just want it and its mama to be healthy and happy. I also just know that I can’t wait for this baby to get here.

I remember waiting with such anticipation for Katie. Looking at her clothes and sitting in

her nursery and touching all her stuff, imagining what it would be like to be a mom. Desperately anxious for the arrival of my sweet baby. Naively thinking I could imagine what it would be like to hold it and be a parent. I know Katie and Patrick are doing the same thing. After three kids and lots of years I know now I have no idea what it will be like to be a grandma. I know Katie and Patrick have no idea what it will be like to be a parent. All kids are different so every experience is unique even within the same family. After watching these two together for so many years I know one thing for sure. They are going to be spectacular parents. I also know without a doubt this baby, boy or girl, will be loved by mom and dad, uncles and aunt, cousins and most especially 4 grandparents who can’t wait to meet Baby. I also know for once in my life I am glad I didn’t read that last page of the novel or unwrap that Christmas gift before Christmas morning. The surprise that is waiting will be best enjoyed with our family.

Read more of Melinda’s blogs at Melindalittleblogs.com

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A Little Halloween

Posted by MELINDALITTLEBLOGS.COM on OCTOBER 30, 2016

I have heard it is fall. I have seen photos posted on Facebook by friends showing the leaves

Neighborhood park – October 2016

changing colors in other parts of the country. I have heard rumors there is a general election coming up, which is another sure sign that fall is here. Walking through Target I see the black cat and jack-o-lantern napkins and mega-sized bags of miniature candy on sale near the checkout counters. Yet when I walk outside the temperature in Houston is still near 90 in the afternoons. The trees are green and so is the grass in most places. In the areas where it is brown it is not because of cooler temperatures, but because we have not had rain in a while and my conservation conscious neighbors are foregoing watering too much. (Thank you for that by the way!)

As a kid I never knew what the weather in Houston would bring for Halloween. Some years….

Read the rest of Melinda’s blog at: melindalittleblogs.com

So I’ve heard from Weldon the Cowboy Poet again. He first sent me this picture and post.

“Just when I thought I’d seen it all!”
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I then asked him if it was real or photoshopped, and he messaged:
“I heard that it got out of the chute, and jumped on the hood, then on top of the trailer after being chased around the truck.” *
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What do you think?

Melinda made a great video of our trip to Tangier. I hope you like it!

Weldon
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I heard from the Cowboy Poet. His real name is Weldon. We’ve become Facebook friends, and he sent me a message. With his permission, I’m posting it.
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A few days after I returned from Amarillo, Weldon messaged me:
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“It truly was My Pleasure to meet You Russell, I had a great time talking to You. I find You to be a very intelligent Man, and that’s why I took the time to meet You. I think that if a Man lacks experience, He needs to pay attention to the ones who are masters of their trade. I like visiting with You because You are that, Sir. You are a master, and I had a short time to learn from You, but, what I learned, I will carry with Me every step I take in life. Thanks for everything, I want to see You sometime, if You ever get in the same neck of the woods as I, again. I appreciate You finding intrest in a simple country boy like Me, and taking the time to listen, and teach. Have a great week! I hope to see You soon, Pard. Warren”
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If you missed it, below is the initial blog about the Cowboy Poet.
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I took this as I was flying into Amarillo
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Cowboy Poet
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While in Amarillo, Texas this weekend for my 40th class reunion at Amarillo High School, I met a cowboy poet-I’ll call him Warren. Warren doesn’t really intend to be a poet, and he crosses the line as much as he says something you have to write down before you forget.

Warren is tall, thin and lanky. He’s about seventy-five, he’s lived hard, and he wears a large straw cowboy hat. When he talks its with an aggressive, West-Texas twang. He was bit by a large rattlesnake not long ago-he’s recovered already and that shows how tough he is-and when I tried to argue not to kill the snakes he shoved pictures of his bite as it healed. He won.

While sitting outside under stars I never see in Houston and with the roar of a party from inside the building, Warren had quite a bit to say. Two things were too good to forget, and I emailed myself to remember them right then.

To appreciate the culture in the statements, the truth in them, you have to know “cowboy” culture to know truly what he was saying.
When I said, “I thought there were many very attractive women in Amarillo,” Warren interrupted and said, “Well, they are at market weight.” (That meant he was agreeing with me) I had to write that down.

When I said it had started raining, Warren said, “Of course it was raining, the cows were laying down this morning.” Apparently it was obvious. I want to be Warren’s friend and hear more from him.

TRAVEL, MARRIAGE, PHOTOGRAPHY, FOOD, LIFESTYLE

A Little Journey – Morocco

Posted by MELINDALITTLEBLOGS.COM on OCTOBER 13, 2016

This year I bought a real camera. Not the newest version of the iPhone, but a real camera – one with a base and the ability to change lenses depending on the photographic circumstance. One that allows me adjust the focus and light and shutter speed. It also also has a video function. I love my Sony A-6300. I have had so much fun using it.

At the same time I was learning to use my camera, Russell was putting the

Marilyn shoe shopping in Seville

finishing touches on his first novel, Murder for Me and preparing for its publication. He launched a website (russelllittleauthor.com) and began blogging and publicizing his book. The protagonist in the book is named Marilyn and a model representing Marilyn is on the cover of the book. One of his favorite publicity tricks is to take pictures of the book at various locations and posts pictures of it saying Marilyn is participating in various activities like shoe shopping. It has been a fun social media tool for him.

Somehow we had the idea that it might be fun to start vlogging too. For those who have not heard the term, it mean to blog via video. It started after Russell created a youtube channel. We decided we might be able to make his video posts more interesting if we put a little thought into it. Our first attempts only included him in the front of the camera and me behind directing, but eventually it became a full team effort where we both film and talk. We are total amateurs. We struggle with stabilizing shots, too much light, not enough light, bad transitions, etc., but we are having fun and we are producing a product that is way better than your average home movie – at least in our opinion.

We shot a ton of footage on our vacation last month. I am still pulling together all the clips. I will post the short movies as I get them finished. We call our travel videos “A Little Journey”. Attached is our latest, A Little Journey – Morocc0, made about Tangier. We only spent 24 hours there, but as you will see we loved it. Besides breathtaking scenery, the small boutique hotel we stayed in was our absolute, hands down favorite for the entire vacation and one of our favorites of all time. La Tangerina, a bed in breakfast, was recommended to us and it had great reviews on trip advisor. It is a small house near the Kasbah that has been lovingly restored to perfection It overlooks the ocean. The couple who own the hotel are delightful. The atmosphere they’ve created felt like we stepped back in time. I kept waiting from Humphrey Bogart or Ingrid Bergman to walk in.

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You can read the rest of her blog at https://melindalittleblogs.com/2016/10/13/a-little-journey-morocco/

Shawn and Joyce with me at my book signing at our reunion
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Murder For Me’s newest book review on Amazon gave the book a five star and writes: *
“Loved switching between characters as I read and really got a feel for the setting of each characters place in the story. So surreal!!” *
That’s pretty good. Thanks reviewer.

Travel Is Bullshit

Posted on October 7, 2016 by Grant Cherwenuk

I’ll admit it, I used a shocking title to get your attention. I don’t really think that travel is bullshit but, there are many bullshit moments between all the amazing experiences. I could make this comment about anything, six pack abs, CEO’s, entrepreneurship, athletes. We live in a culture that idolizes the finished product, we’ve lost sight of the bullshit that person has and continues to go through in order to get to that point. The worst part is putting in the hard work might not matter. People will point to the success stories and say it was luck, they’re right. For every Arnold Schwarzenegger, there’s a roided out Belgian guy, going into kidney failure from all the supplements, he’s just been told by the 300th casting agent he’ll never get an acting job because his English sounds like Trump with a mouthful of marbles. We do a terrible job these days of remembering that your life is probably going to be very average, that you aren’t a special little snowflake. Thanks to Instagram and Facebook it appears that everyone is living amazing lives, most people don’t post when they go to work come home and take out the garbage. As a consequence average is no longer average, it’s shit, if you aren’t driving a lambo while banging a bunch of Instagram models, you don’t cut it. What do you do when you’re likely going to live an average life but being average is no longer acceptable? My choice to travel for an extended period of time has made one thing very clear, if you find your bullshit then an average life isn’t so bad.

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Read the rest of Grant’s blog at http://www.losethekeys.com/2016/10/07/travel-is-bullshit/

LIFESTYLE, MARRIAGE, PHOTOGRAPHY

Less Stuff, but Lots Happier.

Posted by MELINDALITTLEBLOGS.COM on OCTOBER 9, 2016

I just finished reading The Happiness Project by Gretchen Ruben. I’m a little late to the party since this was published in 2009, but it is a great book and if you have not already read it I highly recommend it. In reading it I realized I have spent the last year of my life on my own happiness project. Last year we made one of the hardest decisions we have ever made in our marriage. It was not a huge deal in the big picture of life because it only affected us, but it was a decision that would greatly impact our daily lives for years to come. We discussed making it for over five years before we finally pulled the trigger. Russell, who is often freaked out by how easily I am open to change was less enthusiastic. The decision we took so much time making was whether to downsize and move or stay put in the home we had lived in for more than 20 years.

Dare to reevaluate

Our home held many happy memories for us. We raised our children in it. We celebrated most family holidays, birthdays and the many little daily victories in it.

Our kids brought their friends to hang out in the back yard pool. When our daughter, Katie was playing softball which was about ten years of lives, Russell would sit out on an upside down orange paint bucket and catch for her. People knew our house because of that orange bucket and the cute blonde girl who threw so hard! The boys would work on roller hockey or shoot hoops in the driveway.

You can read the rest of Melinda’s blog athttps://melindalittleblogs.com/2016/10/09/less-stuff-but-lots-happier/

I took this as I was flying into Amarillo
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Cowboy Poet
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While in Amarillo, Texas this weekend for my 40th class reunion at Amarillo High School, I met a cowboy poet-I’ll call him Warren. Warren doesn’t really intend to be a poet, and he crosses the line as much as he says something you have to write down before you forget.

Warren is tall, thin and lanky. He’s about seventy-five, he’s lived hard, and he wears a large straw cowboy hat. When he talks its with an aggressive, West-Texas twang. He was bit by a large rattlesnake not long ago-he’s recovered already and that shows how tough he is-and when I tried to argue not to kill the snakes he shoved pictures of his bite as it healed. He won.

While sitting outside under stars I never see in Houston and with the roar of a party from inside the building, Warren had quite a bit to say. Two things were too good to forget, and I emailed myself to remember them right then.

To appreciate the culture in the statements, the truth in them, you have to know “cowboy” culture to know truly what he was saying.
When I said, “I thought there were many very attractive women in Amarillo,” Warren interrupted and said, “Well, they are at market weight.” (That meant he was agreeing with me) I had to write that down.

When I said it had started raining, Warren said, “Of course it was raining, the cows were laying down this morning.” Apparently it was obvious. I want to be Warren’s friend and hear more from him.

My wife and I returned two weeks ago from traveling through the length of Portugal, southern Spain, and Tangier, Morocco. We are gregarious people, so as we traveled we met people from all over the world. We also encountered manners and consideration for others that ranged from very nice and thoughtful to aggressively rude.

While standing in a ten-plus line for a taxi in old town Grenada, Spain, two young English women about twenty-five drunkenly cut to the front of the line screaming curse words to everyone who objected. They jumped in the next taxi and left, the entire line made up of us and people from all over Europe just shook our heads at their rudeness and nerve.

In Seville, we were sitting at a table al fresco on a beautiful night drinking wine and sharing tapas when two middle-aged women with accents that sounded like Australian walked up and started asking us what we had ordered and how we liked it. They were happy and friendly and sat at the next table and ordered the same thing we had. They made our night.

In Germany, I always get mad because they don’t stay in line when the plane counter opens to board the plane. After the announcement, everyone just rushes the gate. It drives me crazy. But it’s just their way. As I stood on the curb watching those rude girls get in the cab, I stood next to a very nice German couple who felt as violated as I did.

We didn’t let any of the bad behavior ruin our trip. You have to be flexible and relaxed when you travel. In fact, We travel to see and meet people even more than seeing sights, so We’re ready to take whatever comes.

In Portugal, we met young Portuguese that spoke five, six, seven languages. I’d hear these friendly, kind young people speak four languages just waiting on tables around me. When most of them spoke English-their second or third language-they usually spoke with an American accent. That amazed us. They said it was television.

One thing this trip made me appreciate more were the kind and gracious people we met in Portugal, Spain, and Tangier. It made me want to improve my graciousness, too.

Anyone who knows me will laugh. Just not being an ass can be a day-to-day challenge for me. But I want to do better, be better. So, since I’ve returned, I work every day to be kinder to every person I encounter. I won’t report how I’m doing.

I heard you were awesome so I baked a cake!

Posted by MELINDALITTLEBLOGS.COM on OCTOBER 5, 2016

Growing up in the south, food was such a big part of our lives. Holidays, birthdays,

My mom and grandmother with Will and Katie around 1993.

Sundays or any celebration like good grades on a report card or Wednesday, always centered around food and the end of every good feast, the dessert. As a kid I remember the women in our family would begin planning for Thanksgiving and Christmas in July. Menus would be discussed and discussed and discussed and discussed some more. Thanksgiving always included my grandmother’s famous turkey and cornbread dressing. Sometimes the cornbread dressing included oysters and other times pecans, but it always contained homemade cornbread. For Christmas we always mixed it up, having ham, rib roast or lamb as the meal’s centerpiece, but regardless of the main dishes for Thanksgiving and Christmas the side dishes and dessert were the key topics of all menu planning conversation.

My brother is a pie man. He especially loves pecan pie, and even now he starts talking

My brother Mike, the pie man last Christmas.

about homemade Thanksgiving pie about the time summer ends. It is in our genes to plan for Thanksgiving in the summer, I guess. On the other hand, while I like pie, I love cake. My grandmother used to make an Italian cream cake for Christmas that was and is still my favorite cake of all time. I often still make it for Christmas Eve for my family. The problem with this particular cake is I love it so much I usually have to throw it away before I eat the whole thing by myself! My name is Melinda and I am addicted to homemade Italian Cream Cake.

You can read the rest of Melinda’s blog at: https://melindalittleblogs.com/2016/10/05/i-heard-you-were-awesome-so-i-baked-a-cake/

I’m watching this tonight. Start with this version of Fitzgerald’s life, https://youtu.be/cCfUsaX5F10 then go get the Real Fitzgerald. That is the Fitzgerald in France.

Once you’re tired of that, watchhttps://youtu.be/QjIUFu2J-wQ about Hemingway vs Fitzgerald, but don’t believe it either.

Then read Movable Feast by Hemingway. Believe that as the absolute final word.

As your attorney, I recommend it.