It's a lot like asking a woman who's just come home from a girls' dinner 'What did you talk about?'  The short answer?  Everything! When Mia Freedman talks, people listen. Perhaps not her husband. Or her children. But other people. Women. Mia has a knack for putting into words the dilemmas, delights and dramas of women everywhere. The new rules for dating in the internet-romance age? Yep, tricky stuff. Things are not what they used to be. And sex talk at the dinner table? Appropriate or not? Perhaps not, unless in an educational capacity and even then some things are best left unsaid . . . With intrepid curiosity and a delicious sense of humour, Mia navigates her way through the topics – great and small – of modern life.

    Their story is one of hardship, violence, and cautious, heartbreaking attempts toward compassion. Lesley's fearless journey through his family history provides a remarkable portrait of hard living in the Western states, and confirms his place as one of the region's very best storytellers.

    In 2007 they left their jobs, as newt catchers, and their native English shores for beautiful green Galicia, in the remote northwest of Spain – a place of mystery and mists, Celtic legends and bagpipes, and a language of its very own. There, they set to work to self-renovate a derelict farmhouse, whilst trying to become self-sufficient and learn more about this untamed part of the Iberian peninsula.When S suggested a three week holiday, walking one of the old pilgrim routes to Santiago de Compostela, little did they know it would change their lives totally. From the outset with too much weight and too little training they realised their Camino goal was not going to be met. With failure looming, they chose to abandon their pilgrimage to view abandoned houses instead. “We first saw A Casa do Campo on a rainswept November morning. Mists were rising and water dripped onto the rusted kitchen range from gaping holes in the roof. There were bird’s nests in the bedrooms and bats in the hallway. Bare, dead looking trees surrounded the property which the Spanish estate agent enthusiastically promised us would be laden with fruit come August. It was love at first sight.”If only buying it were so easy!Deaths, taxes and even Spanish bureaucracy fail to dent their enthusiasm and eventually Lisa and S head off for their new Good Life abroad with an overloaded Ford Escort, tool bags, vegetable seeds and a trusty stereo stacking system. Oh, and two deckchairs in which to relax in the evenings.Plum, Courgette & Green Bean Tart tells the story of that first 12 months living la vida dulce, The Good Life, in this beautiful green part of mainland Spain, Galicia, or Galiza in its own language.This fly on the wall account uses genuine letters home and diary entries to tell a true story: a story of battles with Spanish bureaucracy and mañana timekeeping; of struggles to self-renovate a derelict home before the bats and the weather reclaim it; of learning to protect chickens against aerial assassins and precious food for the table from underground vegetable thieves; of gardening in bizarre weather conditions; of discovering how to cook delicious and sometimes interesting meals on a finally mouse-free wood burning stove; and of falling in love. Plum, Courgette & Green Bean Tart, Book One of the ‘writing home’ series, has an immediacy which has you falling under its spell. Twelve chapters tell a story of twelve months, of four seasons, of a whole year to write home about. Also included are genuine Galician recipes plus a plum, courgette & green bean tart to make, and a free photo album to follow as the story unfolds. The interwoven information and anecdotes about Galicia are told by someone who has truly fallen in love with this little known and timeless green region with its gentle people and erratic weather, ensuring this will truly be a book to write home about.

    It was shortly before 19h00 when Don Steenkamp jumped out of the vehicle and ran into the station’s charge office, covered in blood, to announce that his parents and sister had been brutally shot and killed on the family farm, Naauwhoek. Although the killings were initially thought to be just another farm attack, months later a sixteen-year-old youth was arrested for the murders, setting in motion a chain of events that would grip South Africa, and divide the people of Griekwastad.Based on interviews with all the role-players, including the investigating officers on the case, the forensic and ballistic experts, and family and friends of the deceased, this is the riveting account of what really happened on Naauwhoek farm on that fateful day, as told by the reporter who followed the case from day one…

    But for years Jenna Hollenstein worried that she was using alcohol for the wrong reasons. Though it didn't cause her to spiral out of control, drinking seemed to be detracting from her life in subtler ways: missed opportunities, unaddressed fears, challenges not taken, relationships not cherished, and creativity unexplored. Rather than a series of dramatic events often associated with alcoholism, her decision to stop drinking was based on years of introspection, pros and cons lists, and conversations with friends, family, and a wise therapist. Though she never "hit bottom," Hollenstein eventually realized that drinking was not enhancing her life: it was distracting her from it.

    This book is the story of Volpe's years leading up to those at the Met, from his first job as a stagehand at the Morosco Theater to the odd jobs he picked up moonlighting: setting up a searchlight or laying down a red carpet for a movie premiere, changing titles on the marquees at the Astor, Victor, and Paramount theaters. It is his Met years--from apprentice carpenter to general manager--that give us a story about New York and the business of culture. Volpe looks at the Met today, an institution full of vast egos and complicated politics, as well as its glittering past--the old Met at Thirty-ninth and Broadway, and the political and artistic intrigues that exploded around its move to Lincoln Center. With stunning candor, he writes about the general managers he worked under, including Rudolf Bing and Anthony Bliss; his own embattled rise to the top; the maneuverings of the blue-chip board; his bad-cop, good-cop collaboration with the conductor James Levine; and his masterful approach to making a family of such highly charged artist-stars as Luciano Pavarotti, Placido Domingo, Teresa Stratas, and Renee Fleming, and such visionary directors as Franco Zeffirelli, Robert Wilson, and Julie Taymor.