On The Move!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: It's moving day! No, not for me, thank God, but for my daughter and her family. My part is to be at their current house at 7:15 am (keep in mind it's an hour and twenty minute drive...) and watch my grandson "Paulie" while his mothers travel to Lewiston, Maine to sign the documents. Then, when they return, I'm taking their dogs - yes, again, but only for overnight this time. With their cat safely, if unhappily, locked in a room in the new place, this will clear the way for the local moving company to shift them 33 miles west.

 

 My last move, in 1994, was also with a baby - six weeks instead of four months. Also? I had a seventeen-month old (that's the person who qualifies for a mortgage now. Sure didn't imagine that back then!)

 

Ross and I also hired a moving company, and, like Victoria and her wife, tried to pack up as much as possible to make the process quicker (we were only going 16 miles west!) However, Ross was a lawyer working something like 14 hours a day, and what little management/organizational ability I had was utterly scrambled by motherhood. It didn't help that we didn't actually start the process until a week before the moving truck arrived, unlike my daughter-in-law, who bought dozens of boxes and began packing as soon as their offer was accepted.

 

 I recall the process only in glimpses, similar to the way people in a car only remember flashes of the terrible accident. There was the moment we were both up at 3am, trying to clean the kitchen while passing the fussy baby back and forth. At one point, I was nursing my son in the cab of the mover's truck, sobbing. For some reason, I have a clear memory of having no box in which to put the under-sink cleaning products, and deciding, "&#$% it, it'll just transfer with possession." Then nothing until Ross and I were standing in the main 40X20 foot room, saying to one another, "How are we ever going to fill all this space?" (Spoiler: we did.)

 

I've been in the same house since then, and friends and my children ask me if I consider getting someplace smaller, on one floor, say, and with MUCH less yard to maintain.  And that would be nice! But honestly? I'm not sure I've recovered from the last move yet.

 

Dear readers, what are your moving stories?

 

 

Hallie's going to Paris... c'mon along?!?!

 HALLIE EPHRON: I'm thrilled to report that I'll be teaching a 5-day master class on writing a mystery/suspense novel in (drum roll...) PARIS (31 May - 5 June 2026).

When the invitation to teach a master class at the 2026 WICE Paris Writers Workshop arrived, I pinched myself. 

I present at a lot of writing confeence, but it's not often that I get to teach a really intensive, down in the nitty-gritties, week-long master class on writing with a group SMALL enough (max 12). With plenty of time for me to get to know the writers in the room and for them to get to know each other. 

And Paris? Zoot alors!!

Then I scurried about making sure it was real... because, well, you know, sadly you've got to double and triple check everything that arrives via the Internet these days.

Turns out the Paris Writers Workshop, founded in 1989, is the oldest writers workshop in Europe. It's run by WICE ( Where Internationals Connect in English) which was started by a group of American expats back in 1978.

Earlier this week I caught up with Lorie Lichtlen, this year's workshop co-director. Thirty years ago, she came to Paris as a journalist and she's still there. More recently Lorie made her living writing for big businesses like Euro Disney. 


 
Lorie has been coming to the Paris Writers Workshop since 2014, and fondly recalls the year she got to learn from Carol Shields (that same year that Shields won the Pulitzer). 

She credits WICE for nurturing the creative nonfiction writer in her, and for introducing her to a community of writers. 

She was delighted to talk about this year's faculty - six of us - and their first time offering a master class on writing mystery and suspense.

To say I'm looking forward to this would be an understatement! Because I *love love love* Paris. And my happy place is teaching. 

The workshop will be held at the Paris College of Art, near the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs-Élysées.

I'm hoping that some of the aspiring writers among our Red readers will be up for joining me in Paris. (No you do not need to speak French.)

And today's question: Do you have memories of Paris, or is it on your travel wish list?

 
REGISTER WICE Paris Writers Workshop - 31 May - 5 June 2026
https://wice-paris.org/paris-writers-workshop
Early bird registration until 2 March
PROGRAM 
https://www.wice-paris.org/pww2026_program 

PHOTO of the Arc de Triomphe By Kainet - Flickr: Arc de Triomphe HDR, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=30352419 

It's the Olympic Fashion Event!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Well, it's another Olympic year, which must mean one important thing. It's time for my critique of the various competitors' national uniforms! After all, who better to judge the clothing thrill of victory and agony of defeat than I, a sixty-something out of shape woman whose only regular exercise is walking the dogs (except not now, q.v. yesterday's post, RUN AWAY FROM THE COLD.)

I do have one genuine qualification, which is I live in part of the country which gets cold and snowy every year, and thus I have to dress accordingly, and I get to see lots of other miserable sinners fellow citizens likewise showing off their frigid fashion chops. Let's get right into it!

 

Mongolia 

These awesome cashmere garments, based on traditional  Mongolian dress robes, have been universally hailed as best in show. And yes, cashmere fans, you can pre-order various pieces of these looks! I'm trying to figure out if I'd be supporting local Mongolian cashmere manufacturing or just appropriating culture if I wore these around Portland.

 

 

Italy 

Unlike other commentors, I'm fine with dragging the host country's uniforms - just see what I had to say about the French in 2024. But it feels bad to diss designer Giorgio Armani, who is 1) a legend and 2) dead. But let's face it, the only word for this gear is boring. It's black, it's white, and I've seen more creative ski wear on the Loon Mountain bunny slope.

 

 

Norway 

Some fashion journalists find the these uniforms too traditional, and therefore dull, but I disagree. There's a classic winter sports look, and nobody does it better than the Norwegians, which isn't that surprising. Plus, did you know Dale of Norway isn't some California guy who founded a sweater company, which is what I always thought? No! Turns out Dale (two syllables) is a town in Vestland, and they still make their garments there! I don't know why NBC isn't talking about this.

 

 

Canada 

Oh, Canada. We love you so. And I know lululemon originated in Vancouver, but it's owned by an American private equity firm now (boo!) so why are you letting them dress you this way? The oversized-but-not-in-an-interesting-way parkas and the quilted pants I can live with, but the puffy maple leaf that looks like a body part I can't mention on this blog? Does the company have something on you? Blink twice if you need to be rescued.

 

 

 Brazil  

Now THIS is how you do winter avant-gard. Brazil has sent a record-breaking 14 athletes to Cortina, and they have come to slay. The down skirt and shorts, the cape-like coat and the slashed parka; it's both stunning and warm. Would I wear these? Would you? No. But I bet Youngest would totally rock this look. Speaking of which:

 

 The Netherlands 

Nederlanders, I'm so grateful for your embrace of my daughter, for the fine education she's getting in your country, and for your totally hot prime minister and his equally hot husband. But we need to talk about your orange obsession. I understand, the House of Orange and all that, but 1) nobody even knows what colors your flag has and 2) you look like walking hazard cones. On the other hand, you go well with your neighbor

 

Belgium 

Whose athletes are all dressed in safety yellow, presumably for working around the hazard cones.

 

France

I'm genuinely on the fence about the Gallic uniforms. On the one hand, kudos for finding a colorway that feels like winter, and not falling back on the national flag. If you check out their other uniforms, they've gone for a cool street wear-inspired vibe that I can absolutely see taking off when it hits stores. And the opening ceremony parkas are more of the same - but with a lot of pockets. A LOT of pockets. I keep thinking of the poor women competitors with snaps and logos positioned exactly over les poitrines. Well, French design isn't always practical.

 

 

Haiti

Haiti is another small country punching way above it's weight. It's sending two alpine skiiers to Cortina, but the real talk is about artist/designer Stella Jean's hand painted uniforms. She originally planned a portrait of Toussaint Louverture, but the Olympic committee found the image of someone who threw off slavery and freed his nation from colonization "too political." The Olympic committee evidently has never heard of the Streisand Effect, because the story behind the clothing is in every news article I could find.

 

 

Germany

As many of you know, I spent several years of my childhood Germany. My family enjoyed going on volksmarches, organized walking/gentle hiking through the countries beautiful but often damp forests. Which is why I instantly recognized the bucket hat and free-with-purchase Adidas ponchos worn by the Olympic team. The off-duty costume isn't any better; it's an Adidas hoodie that says "Germany" in what looks like the cheap-o lettering you get when you send your high school sweatshirts out to be personalized. Fortunately, Nike did a better job with the hockey jerseys, featuring the always-intimidating Bundeswappen (coat of arms.) 

 

Now it's your turn, dear readers. What are your winners and losers in the Olympic style event?