Is Bitsy’s Backstory Being Bared?
Gunnar Olafsson The sound of the doorbell jars me from my political trance. It’s 11 AM and I am wondering whether I’ve done enough to secure a win for Wanda. “Good morning,…
Bitsy McMurtry, wealthy widow
Meryl Streep, Bitsy, and a Gin and Tonic or Two
Jenny Page I haven’t been this excited since Lay-about Lindy let my daughter out of his pompous paws. Thornton is exhilarating. His deft handling of the artifacts of Middle Valley from decades…
It’s a Crime That Bitsy Gets Stood-Up
Does anyone care that I’ve been sitting here for 20 mins? Apparently not. Cecil’s bopping about, Cassie is no where to be found, yet the late breakfast / lunch rush…
Bitsy Teaches How to Weave Worry Into Action
My days are simply running into one another. Business interests, book club, worrying about Mercury day in and day out. She deserves so much better than that prince. But so…
On Persuasion in Politics: One Puppeteer’s Power
I have decided that Wanda is the best person to fill our vacant mayor position and, having convinced her, I intend to take a strong position in guiding her campaign.…
Bitsy & Her Subconscious Tackle Life
I need a rest. Time to think about everything that’s going on. Of course, I like action, I like lots of stuff going on around me. But maybe I need…
It’s Bitsy’s Morning! Mercury, Miller … and a ‘Monger Named Shirley
Early morning breakfast plans with Mercury, and I have too much on my mind … I hate to say I told you so, dear daughter of mine, but I told…
Bitsy at one with being the windshield; eschews being the bug
I believe it was the great Mary Chapin Carpenter who once sang “sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the bug.” These days, I am, of course, a windshield. Which is…
Bitsy’s Mission to Restore Order in the Valley
I step outside the Riverside, and the pending winter greets me. The sun is down and the wind is gusting off the river. These walks do me good. I love…
Aligning of the Orbits: Shirley & Bitsy Unite
Ice on the Chickotee, ice in my glass …. Wasn’t that a song? Well, it should be. The icy chunks line the banks of our lifeblood, of the vein of…