Watching the fire during a thunderstorm in grandfather's drawing room

My father was from Los Angeles, all the way. My mother, however, was a refind woman from Kent, England. During my fall break from school, we traveled to my English grandfather's house in the country. I have warm memories of reading until way past my bedtime in grandfather's study; the rain pouring down, a fire crackling in the huge stone fireplace and the tick-tock of the tall clock that had been in that house for over 50 years. I read Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë and wished we lived there instead of in California with its ever-quickening pace of life.

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