solitude

I always say I'm all one way, or all the other. I did eight years in midtown Manhattan because I wanted to be in it. I needed to be around humans, I wanted the energy of the 24-hour buzz. I was heart broken and lost. I've been back in Australia just over 18 months. It's not easy doing everything alone. While I can look back on my first marriage and clearly identify why it was utterly fucked, I got really used to being with someone. I don't...

lucid. unplugged. disconnect.

"Yo puedo hacerte feliz…" I met my husband 29 June 2017. Halfway through our first date, breakfast at a French cafe' on east 44th street in midtown Manhattan, he leaned across the table while I blushed crossing and uncrossing my legs (both of us dressed to the New York City nines, suits and frocks at 7am) and he stated, quite plainly in a husky, cigar-smoking Spanish accent that I drank like a green smoothie... "I can make you happy." "... yo...

mansion life. sun up. sun down.

Living in a mansion for the past six months has been a new solar system after tucking myself into stacks of midtown Manhattan apartments for eights years. I have a reading room, a writing room and an outdoor sanctuary for swimming, sun bathing and word spinning. It's a far cry from my beloved farm house where I was dwelling back in 2009 when FollowMeToNYC took shape. Lately I've been reflecting a lot. When the sun goes up until when it drops....

merriest merry

Merry Christmas blog tribe. I hope everyone ate too much and was showered in gifts. My nemesis over the past few days has been goat cheese stuffed cherry tomatoes and more champagne than I could accurately recall. Coming from Spain, my husband made the biggest seafood paella I have ever seen and we guzzled sangria like it's my job. Speaking of jobs... I can't say how wonderful not working has been. The last time I had all of my time to myself...

Matalan
Content Protected Using Blog Protector By: PcDrome.