Eight of my friends helping me celebrate the harvest as per the ancient traditions when women got together and had fun while harvesting the season's bounty. They are Heather, Auri, Alison, Erika, Melissa, Michele, Deb and JJ. Thank you muses, you light my fires...




Sundays in Laguna
For seven years I lived and worked in a quiet little neighborhood in the Backbay area of Newport Beach called Santa Ana Heights. Though I call the area a quiet little neighborhood it lies directly under the flight path of the Orange County Airport. Not a problem for me though since every time a jet took off I imagined myself in it and on my way to Italy, my childhood home. It was a beautiful way to turn the noise of a jet engine into a promising fantasy that more than a few times became my reality. Perhaps one of the best parts of living in Santa Ana Heights was the fact that it took me 13 minutes to get to Laguna Beach, the legendary beach town that to this day remains one of my favorite places on earth. I have loved Laguna since I first discovered it in early 1983 and Jed and I are currently in the planning phase of making it our permanent home.
All of that is to introduce you to a series of letters that I wrote to friends about my adventures in Laguna on Sunday mornings. I never intended it to be a thing but on its own it became one. I created the domain SundaysInLaguna.com and began to gather the essays and stories into one place. As we contemplate our new life there I’m certain that these essays will likely begin again with an updated perspective on a Southern California beach town that has seen a fascinating and unstoppable evolution over the past many decades. In that light I would like to begin where my original essays left off and share with you my thoughts on what it means to be a part of that evolution. This was written on Super Bowl Sunday 2016
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