Here is a bowl of plums from a tree in my son’s backyard in Venice, CA. They no longer exist. They were delicious.
And here is a view of Janet’s and my street in Venice, CA.
A Plum Grows in Venice
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{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
Cathleen, Loved both “The New Yorkers” and “The Three Weismans…” especially since I grew up in New York, lived on the UWS both as a teenager and adult, and resided in Westport for 20 years … now in Fairfield. I’m curious to know (as are the gals in my book club), whether you are the daughter of Lois Schine of Westport.
Dear Ms. Schine,
I have just finished reading your article on napping, a love story in Real Simple Magazine. I thought it was wonderful! I’m still laughing out loud and I can totally picture some of my family falling asleep right after a big holiday meal. Only the picture that you presented was so funny with everyone sleeping including the dog. Your article just made me want to read one of your books. I love your sense of humor.
Thanks for the afternoon chuckle, it was almost as good as a nap!
Thanks so much. Actually, Lois Schine is my cousin.
Cathleen, how I enjoyed this story. I have surely been born into the wrong family. My afternoon nap – to the relentless chagrin of my family – is wasteful and indulgent – even perhaps “a sign of depression”. Not so………….It’s how I get two days’ value out of one day, and nobody should be able to argue that. I get up at 5 or 6, and by 2pm I’ve done a day’s work most efficiently – no time-wasting there, because I know I have a deadline. At 2pm the dogs’ eyelids are beginning to droop (that is if they are not already on their beds or mine) and I feel myself overcome with somnolence (is that the right word?). I confess my afternoon curtains are drawn, just a thin blaze of vertical Karoo sunlight pushing through the old red cotton velvet curtains. With the blinds open in the bathroom next door and reflected light glowing through the fanlight above the bedroom door, there isjust enough light to read by. Which I do, for about half an hour. And then my book hits the floor, my face turns into the pillow and I am off. Waking up at 4, or 4.30pm is quite simply a brand new day, and until my face hits the pillow again at around 1am I’ve managed to pack in another 8 hours of living. Who could possibly argue with two days for the price of one!