As a little girl, I undoubtedly was a hopeless romantic, probably as a consequence of my own lonely childhood. I dreamed of my first kiss and of the first time a boy would tell me he loved me. I envisioned myself as the female lead in all the 1980s John Hughes’s films like Pretty in Pink, and Sixteen Candles.All in all, I fantasized about a boy intensely gazing into my eyes, and saying, “I love you!” However, my story didn’t end up this way. I was a foreign exchange student in Europe...

Miss Ella gazing at songbirds out the window. It is a gorgeous, sunny day in Colorado when I proceed to open the sliding glass door to let Howard, our Border Collie puppy, and Jabez, our Senior Golden Retriever, out on our deck to enjoy the Colorado sunshine. They love their morning sunbaths. I make my way to the kitchen island to prepare a snack for my daughters, who are 5 and 8 at the time. I am on my own this week, as my husband is on a business trip. As I am standing at the kitchen...

I can still see him there pacing on that long dirt road in Taos, New Mexico. I had twisted my head from my seat to get one last look at him out the rear window of our Land Rover. I was out of breath, because I was being chased by a beautiful, domesticated male peacock, as I was getting into our SUV after a weekend with my husband. George, the resident peacock, had fallen in love with me. I had met George at the American Artist Gallery House, a quaint B&B, which was adorned with colorful...