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Back in the USA, where you get more for a buck than anywhere in the European Union!

After I returned to Los Angeles friends asked it how i felt to be home again, and upon reflection I had to admit that it didn’t make much difference. Having traveled so much in my life, having lived in different countries, moved around the globe & spent long blocks of time in various far-away places, I’ve come to realize that no matter where I go I’m not really “home.” I’m happy enough wherever I am; I plunge into the life around me and don’t miss any particular place.

Nowhere & everywhere is my home.

People: that’s another story; friends, family & acquaintances are scattered around the planet & my connection to them is strong, ever present, through my heart. When we meet we just pick up where we left off and carry on. And then separation, the most painful thing that has become the constant in my life as a wanderer.

I’m writing this from San Francisco where I’ve come to visit a new grandchild – Nico Aaron. I’m in awe of the miracle of new life, the wonder of a brand new creature, who, by the way, while I don’t want to sound like a typical grandmother, happens to be the cutest, sweetest, most darling little baby.

Before I drove up here I explained to my son & daughter-in-law that it’s written in the grandmother’s guide to the galaxy that grandmas need to sleep at night, so they kindly arranged for one of their friends to loan me their house while they are visiting family in Canada. Kindness abounds in San Francisco, and so here I am, sitting pretty at the top of telegraph hill, with panoramic views overlooking the bay of San Francisco, the bay bridge, the ferry port, the tall glistening towers of downtown – in a beautiful, luxurious home filled with every comfort I could want. The sun's shining bright over the bay, the city glistens in silvery light, central heating works fine & the bed is so comfy I sleep like a log all night; it's quiet, peaceful,lovely.

But nothing is ever perfect, as I’m always so quick to point out. While this house is fabulous, i don't like the 42 steps I need to climb to get to the street, nor the steep half of a block I need to climb to get to the bus. I’ve parked my car in a precious parking spot nearby where it will remain until I’m ready to leave town. I love San Francisco but it's not for physically challenged, aging grannies who prefer level ground; walking the streets my huffing & puffing goes into high intensity.

Nevertheless, I’ve met many interesting people, friends of my kids & their friends, & have been invited to parties with great food & drink nearly every night. This is surely the friendliest town a person can visit – especially compared to Los Angeles, which is probably the loneliest. But, there I go, qvetching again for no good reason when I should be counting my blessings. I’m a lucky girl, living the life I’ve chosen, my family is growing & I'm having a wonderful time.

Happy New Year to all.