Behind every writer is an avid reader. Or many. For company and insight on the reading journey, I am in debt to the women of my Colorado book clubs: the Never Summer Readers of Walden and the Magnolia Blossoms of Nederland. Every month you gave me a chance to play with words and refine what it is in books that captivates me. I hope I’ve managed to capture some of that in my own.
The marvelous Iowa Summer Writing Festival provided the forum for a much-needed writing tune-up. I am ever grateful to Lon Otto, my superb instructor at ISWF, for looking me in the eye and telling me just to get on with it. Thanks to his referral, the wonderful Michele Hodgson took my collection of anecdotes and helped me craft them into a real story.
For believing in me, keeping me laughing when times were tough, and finding a publisher for my work, I thank Ken Wright. Landing on Planet Wright was one of the luckiest days of my life. Michele Rubin stepped in and with extraordinary flair and passion took over the reins. I cannot imagine how I became so fortunate as to have such a kindred soul as my agent.
Marjorie Braman inspired me and left an indelible imprint on this book. Thanks for tips on where to buy the best French mustard, for insight on how to dress for the horse races, and for great taste in restaurants.
The impressively talented Lindsey Breuer, my editor at Skyhorse, brought this book to fruition, applying a discerning eye and an ineffable sense of the rightness of phrasing and teaching me lessons about poise under pressure. Thank you for your enthusiasm, your hard work, and most of all for going the extra mile on my behalf, even when that extra mile was actually ten.
My spirit is supported by the love of very special friends. For countless hours playing Scrabble and Bananagrams, joining me on horseback adventures, bike rides, hikes, and walks, patiently listening to my dreams, reading drafts of this book, and sharing priceless feedback, I thank Peg Brocker, Betsy Kates, Vivian Long, and Annie Sjoberg. Thank you to Donna Meitus for opening your home to me and showing me the joys of Zumba, planking, and pho lunches. I am deeply, humbly grateful to Janine Brownstone and Pat Heiber for ignoring my uncoolness and becoming life-long friends with whom I can still resume a conversation started so many years ago. To all of you: You lift me up; you make me smile; my life is immeasurably richer for your presence.
The readers of my travel newsletter shared my amazement and laughed along with me at the odd things I encountered on my road trips. At the risk of leaving out many, I extend heartfelt thanks to Heinz and Heidi Löber, the many-numbered Gateau family, Michael O’Malley, Laura Border, the late Carl Trick, Sr., Marie Thomas, Bob Tointon, Tessa Wardlaw, Marian Cramer Wood, BJ Holmes, Phil Teeter, Inga Schalburg, Rosalie Culver, Dani and Yvonne Bernstein, Cherie Long, Bob and Audrey Williams, and Bruce Blythe. Your feedback while I was on the road was like high-octane fuel, and your insistence that I put it into a book is the reason why this one exists.
I can never repay the boundless welcome and no-strings-attached love of Nina, Izzy, Kate, Chloe, and Skip. Special thanks to Magic, Bridger, Scout, and Beau, who took me over fields, through willows, and into the hills, never questioning where I wanted to go, knowing simply that I needed to get gone.
I clearly won the lottery in my sister Vivienne, who contributed in countless ways to this book. She is confidante and advisor, playmate and admirer, editorial coach and my biggest cheerleader. She laughs at my jokes, will forever be tall and blonde to my not so tall and brown, grounds me when I get carried away, then lets me fly. Given the extent to which I tormented her as a child, I am thrilled she is still willing to accept me as her sibling. I have only one sister and that’s all I need.
Everyone thanks their family in their acknowledgements. For me, the issue runs deeper, as this story would never have happened if not for my husband, Bernard. That he helped me step into his dream and let me make it mine was an act of the purest generosity and faith. Without you, my life would be a poorer thing.