I was born a long time ago in New York City, which is where I ended up finally, with Michael, my husband of 50 years, a Brit and a scholar who died in January, 2017. My first novel, The Garden, was accepted for publication when I was 21. I published several novels after that, non-fiction books, a couple of NY Times bestsellers under a pseudonym, short pieces of both fiction and non. Travel, food, wine were all my passions, and remain so. I have a son, a granddaughter,a motley of friends, each indispensable. I am still in mourning - for Michael, for my dead friends, for this country and world, now overtaken by a man I've referred to as orange dishrag, intending his hair, though I now think cheesecloth would be better, more porous and closer to the state of his mind, which is bringing the world to disaster of every sort.