Somewhere along the way in life, you start to listen to that little voice. We are all on this journey together, growing, learning, and changing. As I stood in the kitchen of my dream home, looking out on the still water of the pond, I cried. Warm, salty tears streamed down my face as I told myself I could do this. Just start with one box; dont get overwhelmed. Pack one box; stay focused. I started packing Grandmas china first. As I packed the china set, a flood of memories came of the countless times I had carefully wrapped up each piece and placed them into the box. It was at that moment that I decided to write about this beautiful set of china, all the experiences and lessons I have learned along my journey. It is through my grandmothers journey that I have found my own strength and freedom. Twenty years and thirteen moves later, the china is the only set of dishes I own. When was the last time you used your china? What are you waiting for? Dont leave it locked up, waiting for a special occasion. Make today the special occasion you have been waiting for. In loving memory of my Grandma, Veronica Billetz (January 13, 1922-December 13, 2009)

"This warmly loving book is hard to put down and hard to forget. Sornberger is a poet to watch."- Library Journal An elegant collection of poetry rooted in a woman's relationships with family, ancestors, and the world-it is a testimony to an openness of the heart.

Dealing with intense intuitive growth spurts wasn't something taught in fourth grade health class for Araelia. Laugh and learn as Araelia shares her hindsight so that others may see their intuition as a gift and not a burden. Araelia offers various wellness workshops and private appointments. Check out her web site at http://web.mac.com/spiritspa

Divorced, alone, and unexpectedly unemployed, Sylvia Landsman flees to Italy, where she meets Henry, a wistful, married, middle-aged expatriate. Taking off on a grand tour of Europe bankrolled with his wife's money, Henry and Sylvia follow a circuitous route around the continent—as Sylvia entertains Henry with stories of her peculiar family and her damaged friends, of dead ducks and Alma Mahler. Her narrative is a tapestry of remembrances and regrets...and her secret shame: a small, cowardly sin of omission. Yet when the opportunity arises for Sylvia and Henry to do something small but brave, the refrain "if only" returns to haunt her, leaving Sylvia with one more story of love lived and lost.