Women in Business

I notice in my French village that people are not obsessed with careers. Earning a living is part of life and if it is enjoyable, so much the better.

I also notice that many village shops are women owned and operated. Over the years, I've developed friendships with them. So much better than an impersonal chain store. 

Come with me to visit a few, all of which are a few minutes in walking distance of my home. 

Used clothing and a coffee shop. The owner is the wife of my real estate agent. I wish I needed more clothes to patronize her more.

Catherine, the Brownie Lady, doesn't have a shop but we find her at the Saturday marchès under her orange umbrella. Her husband also sells his wine at the stand. Besides brownies, coffee brownies, lemon cakes, cheese breakfast tarts and misc. pies, chatting with her is a delight. The couple are about to become grandparents. I am looking forward to her very English mince pies next month. 

My former Swiss-American landlady in Geneva, where we live part time tasted Catherine's coffee brownies when I gave her a few. Now when we are invited for a major dinner party and we go from France to Geneva, she asks me to bring some. Catherine loves saying she has international clients.

Most beautiful days, eating on the terrace at the La Veille Cave is lovely, but for rainy or windy days, the upstairs has the original stone walls and beams. The menu du jour is always good, but so is the standard menu. The owner is always smiling, and she's always willing to cater to my shellfish allergy.

Two women green grocers both within minutes walk of my kitchen have wonderful fresh veggies. The one above is new, but the owner has fit into the neighborhood.

Sonia's (below) has been women-owned for decades. There was Caroline then Elisabeth before Sonia and Maureen, who is also a talented musician will take it over at the end of the year. All of the women are quick to tell you when the wood garlic, honeycombs and local asparagus are in. If the women who have run the store don't think the quality of whatever is not up to their standard, I'm told to replace it. Right now it's kaki season and Sonia rushes out to packages the delicate fruit.

 

 

 

How many people have an underwear lady? This woman also limits her business to marchès. Despite the low price, which has just gone up to four euros for undies, they last and last. When I tried to buy a larger pair for comfort under a nightdress, she double checked that I really wanted it. Glad she didn't think I was as chubby as my purchase would indicate. 

My favorite cheese shop: goat, cow, sheep cheeses are all wonderful. The woman owner always has a beautiful arrangement sometimes with decorative touches. I find everything I need for an apèro, casserole, fondue, raclette, snack, etc. Although it was a man Charles de Gaulle who said, “How can you govern a country which has 246 varieties of cheese?” the woman owner of this shop knows about all her merchandise.

 

The corner table is perfect for people watching because it is at a crossroads. The owner, mother of five, has a wide variety of teas and coffees, pastries, some she makes herself. She also does a great Arabic mint tea in a small decorated glass on a silver tray. 

 

She just took over the restaurant opposite the train station. Her main chef will be a woman who recently closed her restaurant. A feature, besides Sunday brunch and gourmet nights, is Nelson (no relation), the French bulldog, a buddy of my dog Sherlock. At Mille et Une we see people we know with the atmosphere often being reminiscent of an English village pub.

 

These women are all good business women. Dealing with them is more than shopping. It's a reminder of the joy of personal relationships. 

 

 

 

 

Questions Questions Questions

 

I feel the world has gone insane. Watching the news, I often scream at the television or my laptop. Questions flood my brain. Here are some just from today starting with why aren't more people asking questions and demanding answers.

ISRAEL 

1. Who in their right mind thought Hamas could return all the hostage bodies buried among the rubble?

2. Who believe(d)s Netanyaho when he said Hamas was using places to hide so he was free to bomb them? 

3. How can people think Gaza isn't a genocide? How are 1,000 +or - dead, although horrible compared to 60,000 + or - dead? 

4. How can a people who were the target of the holocaust do the same to another people?

5. Why is it an arrestable/deportable offense to speak out in favor of Palestine?

6. Why is only the Israel side of the story told?

7. Why can't every country, including Palestine have the right to defend itself? 

UNITED STATES 

1. Why didn't the Democrats tell a better story of what they did well during the Biden administration?

2. When Republicans claimed credit for good things the Democrats did well, although they voted against it, why didn't the Democrats fight back with the truth? 

2. Why are 42 million people in one of the world's alleged richest countries food-insecure?

3. When there is danger of huge jumps in health care costs, how come the top executives in Insurance companies are earning such high salaries and compensation? 

4. When will Trump offer proof about the people he's killing on boats and saying that they are running drugs?

5. Isn't it nearly impossible for people in those boats to reach U.S. shores?

6. Why isn't there more uproar about the criminals that Trump is pardoning?

7. Why is Navarro on TV as an expert when it is known that he faked sources in the book he wrote?

8. Is Democracy dead? 

9. Are the Republicans rigging the system to rule indefinitely?

10. How will Trumps tariffs and billionaire-friendly policies wreck life for everyone else?

11. Will there be a civil war with the Military and Proud Boys be free to shoot anyone they want? 

12. How can the President be allowed to throw a temper tantrum/hissy fit and add tariffs against Canada because he didn't like an ad run in Canada?

13. Why wasn't more made of Trump wandering off during his visit to Japan?

Why? Why? Why? 

 

 

  

Free Write Prompt a Photo of Spices

 

 

This week's Free Write still finds two of the writers in France and one in Switzerland. The blessed internet allows us to share but we are looking forward to next month when we are in the same café in Switzerland.

D-L's Free Write

"Move the cinnamon sticks. No left. A little more. Good." Jenny focused her camera. Click. Click. She moved the camera a little up, a little down. That should satisfy her client. She never thought she would end up as a food photographer.

Her first camera had been her grandfather's Brownie. Her father had helped her find film. He arranged for a friend who had a dark room tp teach her how to develop the prints.

When she was 12 he bought her a digital camera. She read about F stops.

Her job for a food service had her photographing meals and that lead to a business as free lancer with restaurants as her main client.

She'd met Rob at his photo exhibition. He freelanced too, but he went to other countries, deserts, jungles and war zones.

Now she had to decide. At 25 should she give up her tiny hometown business to travel with him and photograph important things and try and sell them to major media.

She and Rob were having a beer in a pub as she clicked through her cinnamon stick photos.

"So," Rob asked, "Are you coming?"

He already had his visas and said he would help her get hers with help from a friend at the embassy.

She thought about it. "I've taken my last cinnamon stick photo," she said.

"Unless we go where cinnamon is grown," he said. 

Rick's Free Write

As we sat in bed in the gathering light, we talked about baking and cooking. I wanted to start baking cookies and cakes from scratch, I said, something I’ve never done before (only from mixes).

My late mother baked when I was growing up and could have turned it into a business, though she didn’t much care to cook.

I only took up cooking when I was between marriages and tired of restaurants. My favorite was Spanish rice, the way ‘Honey’ taught me (all her sons called her that). Beef, rice, tomato sauce, spices, no hot peppers. I added maple syrup for sweetness, and then on the second-day leftovers a generous sprinkling of French fry seasoning from Schwartz Deli in Montréal.

When I was 16, playing in a junior golf tournament near Miami, I offered to make Spanish rice for my host family.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Teddy’s mom asked.

We had rice everywhere !

I didn’t realize Honey used Minute Rice, which does not expand. When I used regular rice in Florida, it overflowed the pot, the stove top, and onto the floor.

(I did better in the golf tournament.)

Julia's Free Write

Ah, such a comforting picture…

When she saw it, she immediately thought of cold winter nights, a fire in the fireplace, preferable in some mountain chalet.

Good friends gathered around for the evening.

She could almost smell the smells, here the stove almost as she cooked up a stew for the gathering. Not that she was any kind of a cook, but hey, one can dream, right?

In this dream she also imagined a roasted turkey, perhaps some stuffed baked potatoes, hey maybe it was Thanksgiving. After all that is truly one of the best holidays, no commercialization, only friends and family gathering to enjoy each other’s company, to share stories, to spend quality – and quantity – time together.

The glass jars with stoppers reminded her of her grandparents, aunts and uncles at similar gatherings throughout her childhood. She doesn’t regret a minute of those lovely celebrations.

All that, brought on by a simple picture of cinnamon sticks, clove stars and old glad jars, bowls and the like. The mind is a very fertile territory.

About the Free Writers 

Rick Adams is an aviation journalist and publisher of www.aviationvoices.com, a weekly newsletter reporting the top stories about the airline industry. He is the author of The Robot in the Simulator. AI in Aviation Training.  

Visit D-L.'s website  https://dlnelsonwriter.com, She is the author of 15 fiction and three non fiction books. Her 300 Unsung Women, bios of women who battled gender limitations, can be purchased  at https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/300-unsung-women-d-l-nelson/1147305797?ean=9798990385504 

Visit Julia's blog. She has written and taken photos and loves syncing up with friends.  Her blog can be found: https://viewsfromeverywhere.blogspot.com/ 

 

 

 

 

 

Do Americans Deserve to Keep America?

  

Periodically I will see a video asking men/women in the street certain questions:

• What are the three branches of government?
• How many U.S. States are there?
• What is the name of the U.S. Vice President? 
• What country did America fight for its independence? 
•  Other questions of that ilk.

• Some of the answers in order.
• I don't know. Some didn't understand "branches of government."
• 68, 45, 10 were some of the answers
• I don't know 
• Vietnam 

The answers should be as forthcoming as breathing. It's terrifying that the destiny of 341,963,408 (source CIA Fact Book) of these people who if they vote do it with fact-free brains and can hurt those who know.

Every person who applies for citizenship has to pass a test. https://civicsquestions.com/questions/  Experiments over the years show that of those citizens from birth tested, a majority could not answer the basic questions on their country government. Can you pass it?

No wonder the U.S. is in the mess it now is with such an  illiterate voting population. A population with such a small amount of understanding of the history and structure of the country, perhaps it would be better if they didn't vote.

In public grade school outside of Boston back in the fifties, I remember coloring maps of the different states. We were expected to know their names, capitals and even what they produced. 

Third and fifth grades featured U.S. history. Other grades had ancient history of Egypt, Rome and Greece and then European history with an emphasis on Europe. We never made it, however, into the 20th century. We never were taught much about Asia or Africa.

In Seventh Grade Soc (Social Studies) we learned about the world. A game we played pitted row against row. A student went to the world map and stood with their back to it. The teacher named a country. The student needed to find it and tell the class about it. 

In my Freshman year of high school civics was required. Mr. Bronner was a messy dresser and boring. He also taught drivers ed. We already knew about a bill and how it got passed thanks to the cartoon showed during Saturday cartoons.

For U.S. history in my senior high school, each of us was assigned a subject to report on every Monday. Mine was Cuba and since it was the time of the Cuban Revolution there was plenty to report. Also it was the year of the Kennedy-Nixon election so discussion topics were prevalent.

Now they talk about not wanting to upset kids with the facts of U.S. history.  

If I were running the education system what I would do is the following.

Grade one: History of the Indians including information about their cultures.

Grade two: Discovery of America including Jamestown and the true story of Columbus. None of this fairy tale hero crap.

Grade Three: Settling of the colonies

Grade four: Indian wars, relations with the other European countries

Grade five: American revolt giving both the British and U.S. sides.

Grade six: The Revolution, the failure of the Continental Congress and the writing and contents of The Constitution, which should take January to June going over each article.

Grade seven: From 1787 the signing of The Constitution, the slavery issue, the War of 1812, the Indian massacres, Louisiana Purchase, Underground Railroad, The important politicians, scientific developments, Mexican-American War from both sides until 1860.

Grade eight: The Civil war thru to 1899.

Grade nine: America through 1900 to the Great Depression.

Grade ten: The New Deal, the lead-up to WWII, WWII.

Grade eleven: After World War II through to Iraq War including simple economics and U.S. influence good and bad. The Marshall Plan, the rebuilding of Europe, the Korean War, Vietnam should be there. Included should be information about the governments that the U.S. helped overthrow.

Grade twelve: 9/11 Afghanistan, Iraq war, Middle East problems including the history, comparative religions and their influence in society?

Too much for children, you say? 

Not if it is broken down well. The cartoon Just a Bill is not difficult for kids to grasp. Terms such as socialism and communism should be defined as well so they no longer would represent the bogeymen that can be used to frighten people but be applied, or not, based on real information and understanding.

What could happen. If the kids who had been through this curriculum for 12 years get to the voting booths, they would not be swayed by the lies politicians love to tell.

Silly me. I know it won't happen. 

Meanwhile, because people often just want to lead their lives, they don't take the time to learn what they should have learned in school Not their fault, but if they don't take the time, do they deserve to live in a country that was formed on the ideals of the U.S. 

Throughout history, countries have been formed, succeed, fail and disappear. Perhaps that's because the alleged leaders are flawed human beings as much as those they govern are not participants. But that's the subject of more than a blog.

 

 

 

 

Jackie vs. The Donald

 

 

 Destruction vs. Preservation

A total contrast to the disaster that Trump caused by bull dozing the East Wing of the White House was the 1962 television program where the First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy gave a tour of the White House.

She had been working to upgrade the People's House, making sure that none of the history was lost. But then, Mrs. Kennedy had a grace, an appreciation for art, literature, music, the culture of the nation.

Trump on the other hand appreciates nothing but successful revenge and greed. He has destroyed much of what it is good in the U.S. 

Unlike Trump, it wasn't her whim that did it but a careful program that took into consideration all the necessary steps to confirm to legal and ethical standards. 

It is worth it to watch. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pjlu-4VZZkc&t=2562s Her attention to detail on what came from where, who did what in the spots reminds us it is not just a white house but has a piece of every American's history in it's wood and walls.

  I don't know how much more of the White House will be lost under the orange Thug. But then I don't know how much more of the nation will be lost.

Visit: https://dlnelsonwriter.com 

RIP Daylight Savings Time

 

We were happily reading in bed. The dog was a lump under the covers. 

Then the regular 7:05 church bells went off. The clock said 8:05. It was then we realized it was this Sunday, not next, when the Daylight Savings Time ends.

I adore this day. I feel I've been given back that extra hour of life, that was stolen from me in the Spring.

The next week will be a pain if we want to watch any U.S. News station. Instead of six hours difference, it's now five, which I suppose is better than the seven hours difference in the spring. 

Guaranteed we will miss one broadcast forgetting to do the mental time change before tuning on the set. At least the other national stations we watch will be on French time.

Most of the world, not all, and not the U.S., do not change the last weekend in October. Granted the longer summer nights can be pleasant, but I'm in love with the early dark days. To me curling up with tea and a book, maybe a movie, a small meal, music, sweats and maybe a fire in our fireplace is pure heaven. This year it will be even better once our new fireplace is installed.

I'm a chilly weather person, loving turtle necks and sweaters. As a full time writer my business uniform includes blessed jeans. Although summer sneakers/trainers/baskets (American, English/French) are fine, I love my boots. I have a couple of patterned pairs.

My husband humors me. We don't change our clocks until 5:00 or 17heures DST. That way when I think the day was winding down, I can say, "Oh, I still have an hour to do (Fill in the blank). 

This year I suggested we have a glass of champagne. There's a split cooling in the frigo. My husband humors me.

 

Destruction of a Symbol

 

The current destruction of the White House is a symbol of the destruction of America. Sure, there were changes made over the years, a bowling alley, a swimming pool built and filled in, but the structure remained. 

The country doesn't need a ballroom. It needs a government that works for the people.   

Not only is the White House being destroyed as it was, but lives are being destroyed or at least damaged.  No one took a wrecking ball to the East Wing before. Times change but no one ever took a pair of scissors to the Constitution until now either. Both the symbol and what is represented by them are being knocked down.

There are people who built their lives around government service, not just in the armed forces but in administrative posts, scientific work, national parks and more down to a clerk. They had no reason to think that everything they worked for, planned for would end at the whim of a few. They had no reason to think their work would be at best stopped or worse destroyed.

People who didn't work for the government expected certain things from it and also built their lives around it. The U.S. army wouldn't attack them, for example. That is no longer true.

In a few short months, Donald Trump and his buddies like Elon Musk, Stephan Miller and/or Russell Vought, the driving force behind the 2025 Report would come roaring through with no thought to the damage they were causing. People, the planet, the world economies, have been swept aside. None of it matters to them. 

The first time I saw the White House, I was surprised at how small it was in comparison to what it represented. I shivered as I felt its history, all the earth shattering events and ideas that happened in that building. I knew good men and bad men had walked those halls. It was more than a piece of real estate. It was a symbol of the good the U.S. represented, of hope that governments could serve their people.

And now a small cadre of evil men are ripping it all a part at a cost to not just the American citizens, but the planet. 

Note: www.democracynow.org/2025/10/21/russell_vought_propublica_shadow_president

Free Write - A New Twist

 

Rick's prompt this week's Free Write tackled by three free writers. One is in Switzerland, two in France.They write for 10 minutes to a prompt which each one offers in turn. Instead of a photo Rick offered the word Inexplicably.

 Merriman-Webster defines it as "incapable of being explained, interpreted, or accounted for." Usually I find some artwork for the prompt that covers all three. This week, I thought it would be fun to do one piece of artwork for each prompt since we didn't have a photo.

Rick's Free Write

Inexplicably, the house was quiet. Really quiet. Eerily so.

Jean-Luc sat up in bed and rubbed the overnight sand from his eyes. Looked around in the semi-darkness. No sign of Rochelle. Her side of the duvet was pulled back. The dog, Russell, was gone too.

No sounds of children getting ready for school. No smells of saucisson cooking for breakfast. Not even murmurs of people passing by on the street.

J-L tossed the duvet back, struggled to his feet, feeling the pain in his back, and stumbled toward the living room.

He called out. No answer. They must’ve gone to the school. Including Russ.

He decided to make himself some eggs and bacon. Plus a croissant, lathered in butter, and prune juice.

Ate, showered, brushed his teeth, opened the door to check the weather, dressed in jeans, heavy sweater and trainers.

Still no Rochelle. He’d walk to the school, meet her.

The streets were surprisingly empty. Not a soul. And this was marché day, not Sunday. Where is everyone?

Finally, in the village square, J-L spotted a solitary and very old man sitting on a bench. “Where are all the people?” he asked him.

The old man did not answer. Just pointed to the sky.

J-L looked up toward the mountains. And saw the drones. Hundreds of drones. 

D-L-s Free Write

When Jason told Marsha he was leaving her for another woman, it was inexplicable to her why.

She'd thought that their childless marriage had been fine. As the months went by, she began to think of all the things she hadn't noticed.

Jason, although he always returned her hugs had stopped dropping kisses on her head as he walked by.

Barbra Streisand and Neil Diamond singing You Don't Bring Me Flowers Anymore was her introduction to introspection. 

It wasn't just flowers. One Saturday golf game turned into a four a month.

They still chatted about Democrats and Republicans and answered invitations from friends. Usually the men and women broke into two groups so Marsha didn't see it as a problem.

The hurt lessened over time.  She began to see their marriage through his eyes and her neglect of him.

Because they had never really fought, the divorce had been relatively afterwards, inexplicably pleasant, at least for a divorce. After the divorce hearing, they went for a cup of coffee

As she walked away, she was surprised, inexplicably surprised, that it felt okay.

 

Julia's Free Write

Inexplicably,

My mind is empty,

Nothing flows from my pen,

No explanation for the inexplicable.

Maybe tomorrow I'll be more motivated and you can add it as an addendum.

Rick Adams is an aviation journalist and publisher of www.aviationvoices.com, a weekly newsletter reporting the top stories about the airline industry. He is the author of The Robot in the Simulator. AI in Aviation Training.  

Visit D-L.'s website  https://dlnelsonwriter.com, She is the author of 15 fiction and three non fiction books. Her 300 Unsung Women, bios of women who battled gender limitations, can be purchased  at https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/300-unsung-women-d-l-nelson/1147305797?ean=9798990385504 

Visit Julia's blog. She has written and taken photos and loves syncing up with friends.  Her blog can be found: https://viewsfromeverywhere.blogspot.com/ 

 

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The last NANO2025

  

The announcement that Nano2025 would again be each day of November thrilled me until I read that this would be the last year. 

For many Novembers, I've participated. Every day, I and all the other participants would receive a prompt to use as the basis of a piece of flash fiction. 

Flash fiction has several definitions but the most say it's a fiction piece up to 500 words. Other definitions say the limits are between 750 words and a thousand words.

Aesop's Fables could be described now, but not when they were written, as flash fiction. Early American writers who wrote flash fiction were Ambrose Bierce and Kate Chopin.

One of the most famous pieces is "For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn." Although it has been attributed to Ernest Hemingway it first appeared in 1906 when he was seven. He was first given credit for it some thirty years after his death. Despite his talent as a writer, that would have been impossible to accomplish from the great beyond.

November was my most productive writing month because of the discipline Nano2025 created. I would do the flash fiction piece along with whatever writing project I was doing while I lived my ordinary life. For me, each piece would start as a free write except, I could go back and polish, polish, polish. 

Several Novembers had challenges. There was a conference in Lisbon where I accompanied my husband. I could write around the plane rides and events, and I could lock myself into my hotel room part of the day.

At the same time, I didn't want to miss out on what was going on around me. We were at the hotel where a James Bond film was shot. The doorman, who was a young man at the time, was in the film. His role? Open the door for Bond. 

And there was the wonderful tapas restaurant, the best I've eaten at EVER.

The corridor of the hotel was full of photos of royalty that had stayed there. 

This year I thought it would be easier because we are not going to that conference, but there is a lesser glitch. We need to change countries from France to Switzerland. We do that several times a year in either direction. 

This glitch is a side trip to Meaux, near Paris, so my husband can do some WWI research for a book he's writing. When we did some research about the area, we found there would be other interesting things to investigate. After all, we'll be in a neighborhood that we will probably not return to.

One of the things about driving from place to place, I can start the flash fiction piece in my head. 

Once we resettle in our Geneva home, I'll be able to concentrate on my writing. I have to remember how lucky I am that I have so much time to write. And to write well, it is necessary to experience life.  

 

Cuckoo Clock on Strike?

It wasn't a government regulation that Rick and I buy a Cuckoo Clock to receive our Swiss nationalities, but we wanted one anyway.

I like the tiny wooden chalet that reminds me of wonderful weekends in the Valais Alps. 

It is a pleasure looking at the little wooden man sawing wood as his pup looks on.

It strikes the hour and plays a different song including Clementine. 

Rick and I have a debate on the way it strikes the hour. I say it does double. One is bring-bring. Two is bring-bring,bring-bring. Rick says the second round is an echo. I add probably off an Alp into a valley below.

The clock is supposed to shut itself off at night and it does, but it wakes at a different times, 7 a.m., 8 a.m. and sometimes it sleeps in until 10. Likewise it may go to bed at nine or ten at night.

This is not Swiss behavior with their desire to be on time. Or maybe there's an elf inside the clock who thinks two ex-Americans would never notice.  

I hope the clock's erratic behavior isn't because it doesn't like being owned by naturalized citizens.  

 

Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde Alive Today.

 

We all know the story by Robert Louis Stevenson of the doctor who has an evil side. The names Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde have become a symbol of good and evil in the same person.

The revelation of too many young Republican leaders, mostly males and some from Kansas, conjures up this image. In email exchanges they claim they love Hitler and the advantage of gas chambers. They like the idea of raping enemies and slavery wasn't all that bad.

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/us-politics/trump-young-republicans-picture-racist-texts-b2846850.html 

One said, "We gotta pretend that we like them. “Hey, come on in. Take a nice shower and relax”. Boom - they’re dead." That was not the worst.

These cruel excuses of human beings could be future house of representatives, senators, governors. They could also be future husbands of women who admire their squeaky-clean good looks. 

Years ago I dated a man, just back from working in Saudi Arabia. He wanted to be a professional politician and decided the Republican party had the most opportunities because ethics didn't matter and he could rise within the ranks quickly. When he said after the date, "I'll call you," I said, "Don't." 

I'm not saying all Republicans are bad nor all Democrats are good. I don't believe that although Karoline Leavitt, presidential press secretary, said, "Democrats main constituency" is "Hamas terrorists, illegal aliens, and violent criminals." The many Democrats I know are none of these things.

Sometimes watching the lies of the current government is like watching not a B movie but a J movie. J for Jeckyll.

Visit https://dlnelsonwriter.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

107 Days

 

Reading 107 Days, Kamala Harris's romp through her discovering she was the 2004 presidential candidate and each day of her campaign was an intriguing read. It confirmed most of what I believed and taught me things I didn't know.

I read a lot of political books, but Harris included just enough personal stuff about family and such things as not having time to make an Italian sauce so gave away the tomatoes to show her as a normal person. Her one night sleeping in her own bed during the campaign was a reminder of my coming home after a long time away to find all kinds of problems.

As an international, who has lived in five countries, some for short periods and some for decades, my life as a news junkie has me checking newspapers and television news regularly from the UK, France, Germany, Switzerland, Canada and of course, from my birth country the U.S.

Also by talking to people in those countries, I see the world through their eyes, ears and mouths.

That gives me a broad perspective and information that a viewer of one source, living surrounded by those who agree, would never have. It also create a huge desire to shake the person who hasn't taken the time to learn what they need to know to vote for a person who will not destroy everything.  

That they vote against their own interests doesn't limit my frustration. 

What could Harris have done differently to save the U.S. and the world from Donald Trump?  

Harris talks about her mistakes, what she should have said in comparison to what she did say. Wow, a politician who admits mistakes.  

In the book Harris deals with the conflict between her loyalty to Biden, whom she considers a decent man and what she sees as sabotage by his team. She never uses the word sabotage. 

My husband often asked what she did as vice president. Her mention of her many meetings with world leaders and projects, answers that question -- a lot. That her work never made the news, driven off by other news is a shame. One only needs to look at many news sources to know that slanting is rife around the world. 

As an ex-American driven to renounce by FATCA and as a person who has read enough to see the bad things as well as the good that the U.S. has done since 1776, I cannot stop caring. 

It hurts to see a demented, evil man surrounded by others of his ilk, hurt my birth country. I'm angry at the lack of morality, caring and responsibility of those who are in it for their own gain and greed and those who out of ignorance helped the destruction I'm witnessing.

I regret I won't live another 50 years so I can read the books and watch the documentaries about the death of the U.S., the why and how. I hope for a happy ending, but my usual optimistic self is hiding.

Although I prefer to be right in all things, that's not realistic. To be wrong about the future of the U.S. as expressed here would be wonderful.

Visit https://dlnelsonwriter.com 

 

 

 

 

 

Free Write - What is it?

Julia sent the prompt photo from Geneva. Rick and D-L looked at it and looked at it and looked at it, not sure what it was before picking up a pen. They both were able to come up with a 10.minute Free Write.

 

Julia's Free Write

And that was it!

Awaking from a dream, he wasn’t really sure what had happened.

He couldn’t seem to find his way back into the details, but wisps of memory floated there, just beyond his reach.

In trying to remember he set off for the day, down to the valley and a job that was no longer satisfying.

Over lunch he spoke with colleagues, still trying to figure out what he had dreamed and why it had made such an impact on him.

Back to work where his mind incessantly searched. He gave up working early and headed for home – a chalet above the fog bank.

As he broke out into the sun again, his thoughts started to coalesce and become more than just wisps.

That was it! The sculpture that he had seen yesterday when he took a friend up the mountain: the bank of fog below, many call it the sea of fog resting as it often does this time of the year over valleys and lakes made the wild bee sculpture stand out and had obviously triggered his return in his dreams to his childhood and days spent with his grandfather tending the hives.

Blessed memories!

 D-L's Free Write

Marjorie was exhausted. George swore it would be worth it, but after three hours walking up Alp she had her doubts.

They had been dating a year. He was a sport fiend. Her idea of heaven was to curl up on her couch with a book and a cuppa.

However, he was great in bed. Both loved to cook and they could even switch the positions of chef and sous chef.

Another hour and they were above the clouds. The peaks of the Alps were across from the top of the clouds that looked more like a snow-covered  lake.

"There it is, "George said.

Marjorie saw what looked like twisted coat hangars and an oval. Pieces of metal were attached. 

What the hell was it? She walked hours. Every muscle in her body was aching. 

"Imagine," he said. "A giant metal fly statute where there's nothing."

She looked again. He was right, but couldn't he just have shown her a photo?

 Rick's Free Write

Ant

A long time ago, centuries in fact, the people of the valley lived peacefully. Raising their families. Tending their farms. Celebrating the seasons.

But one day their peace was broken by invaders from beyond the mountains. Warriors marauding for pillage and mayhem. Not for riches, certainly, as the valley people had none.

The advance guard of the invaders rode in on their horses, shouting fiercely and brandishing torches of fire. They set ablaze the first barn they came to.

The valley people were powerless to resist. They had no weapons.

But they had friends.

Cecil, the leader of the ant colony, which helped turn the soil for the farmers, and in turn were treated to the cows’ excrement, recognized the danger to all of them – humans, animals and insects.

He rallied the nests, and ordered the flying ant air force to attack the invaders by flying into the horses’ ears and eyes. Non-flying ants would swarm the invaders, climbing all over them, biting sensitive areas.

The invaders fled, driven away by a tiny foe.

That’s why today a monument stands atop the mountain, guarding the valley people.

Rick Adams is an aviation journalist and publisher of www.aviationvoices.com, a weekly newsletter reporting the top stories about the airline industry. He is the author of The Robot in the Simulator. AI in Aviation Training.  

Visit D-L.'s website  https://dlnelsonwriter.com, She is the author of 15 fiction and three non fiction books. Her 300 Unsung Women, bios of women who battled gender limitations, can be purchased  at https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/300-unsung-women-d-l-nelson/1147305797?ean=9798990385504 

Visit Julia's blog. She has written and taken photos and loves syncing up with friends.  Her blog can be found: https://viewsfromeverywhere.blogspot.com/ 

 

 

Don a Costume

  

Anyone who thinks Trump is sane need only look at Portland. He said, “Every time I look at that place it’s burning down, there are fires all over the place.”

In reality people are going about their daily lives. One recent photo showed a person reading a book on a bench.

Portlanders have a great sense of humor. They are putting on costumes of animals, including frogs, to face the National Guard and ICE.

 

I wonder what the Guardsmen and Ice think when ready to defend their country against hardened criminals to discover they are a Frog, Tiger, Teddy Bear?

How do they feel about attacking their fellow country men and women or how do they feel about attacking what might be someone's pet? If they love the puppy killer Kristi Noem who said during a cabinet meeting “They are all lying and disingenuous, dishonest people!”they might approve.

Perhaps the way to defeat Trump is for every American who wants to defeat him puts on an animal costume. Imagine buses, offices, stores where staff, clients, everyone is dressed as an animal.

Trump must be insane to think that when he says something instantly and totally disprovable could be believed. 

 

History Alive

 

As much as I love history, be it a course, a book, or even most documentaries, what I miss is the personal stories of the people who lived through those times. 

It was one thing to be a crusader marching with King Louis or Richard the Lionhearted to free what we call the Middle East from the heathens for Christ (or riches), but how seasick were they crossing the Med? 

When food and supplies did not arrive, did their hopes of riches make them wish they had stayed on their farms despite their obligations to their lord and/or king? Did they want to get back to their families, or were they happy to be freed from the tedium of everyday life?

The documentary La Promesse de Franco, showed in our recently renovated village theater located 75 steps from our front door, did go into that depth.

The opening scene was the remains of a centuries-old village  enveloped in an Impressionist-like painting fog.

An old man, his life written on his face in wrinkles, sits alone outside, speaking in Spanish about his life in the village prior to the Spanish Civil War  (1936-1939). French subtitles translate. He tells how his house had been the largest.

The politics, the Republicans against Franco, left against right, seem no different from what is happening in 2025.  

In between old photos of war battles and peasant scenes, other old people told their stories. In some photos, helmeted soldiers, guns ready to kill, advance.

One woman, a widow for three years, said she was 83, my age now. Since the film was made in 2013, I assume she is dead. She sat in an upholstered chair giving insight of a home.

A thin, white curtain blows through an open window revealing the tiled roof of a house across a narrow street.

Franco builds a village nearby to the destroyed one, giving houses free to those who were loyal to him. He comes to the inauguration and is greeted with cheers. Later the King of Spain visits.

Daily life is told by the middle age residents. We see a choir of women rehearsing, another woman drags her shopping cart, children play. 

There is a statue in the middle of the new town. 

Then school children are asked about the old village. They know almost nothing.

The director, who was present to answer questions, said he deliberately chose to tell the story through the ages of people in reverse, old to young. It is a statement of past, present, future.

There was a major problem with the new village -- there was practically no access to water in the drought-suffering area. Today, the new village is almost deserted, although some people live there with minimal shops.

The director said when the film was shown in the new village after it was first made, the 2013 screening was in the basement of the town hall. Mostly old people who had lived through the war, wanted to attend but the stairs were too much for them and the elevator was broken.

Notes: The film was financed by KissKissBankBank which finances creative projects by crowd funding but has mixed reviews on the bank. 

Visit https://dlnelsonwriter.com

 

Dar's Recipe Box

 

Dar, my grandmother, with whom I lived the first 19 years of my life, was a fantastic cook. It didn't matter if it were a simple meal or a many-course holiday dinner.

Veggies from my grandfather's garden, dishes where meat was stretched because of rationing, cookies, cakes, pies, it didn't matter. It was all good. 

When she died 55 years ago, I inherited her recipe box, and I admit I don't use it as much as I should.

When invited to a Thanksgiving Dinner December 12th. Yes, I know it's the wrong date, but our Swiss American hostess is in Cambodia and Vietnam on the actual day. She usually invites a group of people with American connections for the real feast. She and her husband supply the turkey and apèro and everyone else brings a dish. 

The table is always beautifully set, we can look out on the city of Geneva from their flat. The atmosphere is what Thanksgiving should be. 

Thanksgiving is the only day I'm homesick for the USA. I will already know who won the Boston Latin/Boston English and the Reading/Stoneham traditional football games.

Usually I bring mocca brownies, made by an English woman and sold on the Argelès marché. This year it won't be practical. We are going to Paris from the South of France so Rick can do some research for his book and go to Geneva medical and dental appointments. By the Thanksgiving dinner the brownies would be stale or moldy.

I thought maybe I would make Dar's scalloped corn, a dish that people would request over and over. I took out her recipe box and started looking at the cards, cutouts from newspapers and magazines, including a published recipe by my journalist mother. What touched me was Dar's tiny handwriting, the same handwriting from notes that she might have written me in my childhood.

Equally memory-creating were some of the titles. Leah's chocolate sauce. Leah's furniture all had hand crocheted doilies on the back of her living room furniture.

I don't know who Aunt Lucille was, but Dar often made her oatmeal bread, which I have made throughout my life.

Mrs. Sargent, Dar's mother-in-law, passed on her vanilla cookie recipe.

Aunt Edith's Cream Crabmeat is something I will make when my non-fish eating husband is away.

Auntie Maud's butter cake reminds me of her two-times a year visits from New Jersey, her love of cats and her helping with the dishes after dinner. Dar would wait till their weekly call after Maudie went home to ask where Maudie put this or that dish or utensil.

I didn't find a scalloped corn recipe in the box. My Thanksgiving hostess suggested if I can't bring the brownies, I bring a dessert.  

I did find many scallop corn recipes on the internet. I will try one next week.

Visit https://dlnelsonwriter.com

When Rick has gone

 

My  husband is in Geneva for two days. While he is gone, walking Sherlock becomes my job. 

Normally I read in bed while Rick is walking our little boy. We're lucky that the dog likes to sleep in sometimes as late as nine or nine thirty but this morning he was looking at me a little before eight with a where-is-he and if-he-can't-take-me-out-you'll-have-to stare.

There were no cats. Sherlock has a I'll-ignore-these-but-I'll-chase-the-calico one relationships with the neighborhood tabbies. Most ignore him. He does need to be reminded to NOT eat any food left for them. Also we repeatedly need to say "Pas là" not there, when he wants to pee on merchandise or café furniture and signs. 

 

 

Our street (see photo at the top of this blog) was quiet as we headed toward the church. Shops were just opening up as Sherlock wanted to go to the train station where he made a donation so far into the bushes, I couldn't retrieve it in my green plastic bag.

 

He then headed toward Nelson's, a black French bull dog, where Sherlock left a p-mail. Sometimes he is jealous of Nelson when we give him biscuits, even though we give them to Sherlock too. 

 

The pit bull next door said some nasty things as we walked by. Sherlock increased his speed by the fence-in house as the dog owner's told him to be quiet.

 

Back in the village, I decided to eat petit dej at Mille et Une. All the interns were there today and the only young male brought me my chocolatine (pain au chocolate), jus de pomme et Earl Grey Tea. 

 

Even after the owner left to go to the post, the interns continues to straighten any chairs that needed straightening. The young woman intern, who is very friendly and mega cute, noticed that one of the gift box's labels for Mille et Une was coming off. She stood on a stool to removed the box, went to a drawer to find more labels and replaced the label on the box before returning it to the shelf in perfect display position.

 

Between  reading the local Independent which reported the French government's problems* with momentary prime ministers and feuding political parties, a memorial to the man who helped end the death penalty and my waiter spinning a tray on one finger, I watched Sonia bring out the fruits and veggies that she will sell. There were no customers, YET. Give it a half hour and she will have a line.

 

The man who works at the Retirada Musée came in for orange juice. He's probably in his late forties, full white hair and beard, slim and looking fit in jeans and a sweater. Over the years he has answered my many questions about January 1939, when over 100,000 people, fleeing across the nearby Spanish border from Franco's civil war ,ended up in a concentration camp on the freezing beach.

 

The owner's twin daughters were off to school with their backpacks. 

 

A woman across from me spoke to me in English. It's not always my bad accent that makes people speak to me in native tongue, but more that they want to use their English. In some cases it is our common language if they are visiting from other countries.

 

Sherlock felt he should sit in my lap as I drank my tea. 

 

I needed to go home (around the corner) because GiGi is coming to continue the work on the patio wall. There's much writing I want to do today, and of course make sure Sherlock does not miss Rick's lap by cuddling in mine.

 

This is the life in my village. I love the pace, the personal contacts wherever I go, I can get almost everything I need without having to get in the car including the movie theater, doctor, restaurants, shops where I have a personal relationship with the owners, banks, etc. It leaves me so much energy to write, read, cook and just be. 

 

*That the French government and others also have problems doesn't eliminate our worry that my birth country is being run by a madman and his billionaire buddies, but it changes the concentration that allows me to go on to other things.