A few weeks past, Katie, Micah and I ventured up to the Berkshires to restore our souls to purity, admire the burning foliage and to visit Edith Wharton's house, The Mount! 'Twas most refreshing for my bones as it was for Edith when she was trying to escape city life and her nutzo husband. She was kind of like a Martha Stewart character, starting her literary career with books about decorating and gardening.
Will Mother Stewart come out with a Pulitzer Prize winning book any time soon? I'll keep you posted.
The Mount straddles the gorgeous hills. It sits pale and lucid amidst the murky forests.
Katie palliates my scrupples in the "Giardino Segreto..."
One can't visit the Mount with out a visit to the pet cemetary.
She wrote 40 books in 40 years!