In 2003, Koppel, a novice writer for the New York Times, stumbled upon an amazing discovery: the decades-old diary of a privileged teenaged Manhattanite penned between 1929 and 1934. Fascinated by entries detailing theater expeditions, shopping sprees, love interests, and grand ambitions, she put her journalistic skills to good use, tracking down the original owner of this faded and cracked red-leather treasure. Elated to discover 90-year-old Florence Wolfson alive, alert, and eager to share her memories of a bygone time and place, Koppel began interviewing Florence, interweaving the brief diary entries with more detailed personal anecdotes infused with the type of glamour and sophistication associated with a 1930s romantic comedy.

Well, there is the other way, but I doubt you will find the Spring Well of Purity in Antarctica. Many try, few ever do.

I learnt (only this very morning!) that wallabies in Tasmania are getting high on poppies, creating crop circles and then falling over. I have spent the morning sharing that tidbit with everybody: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/8118257.stm

I do not MEAN TO. I simply wish to say ‘dear Justine, pray read this fine volume, I am sure you will enjoy it’ and then I become CARRIED AWAY.

I say ‘So in Duchess by Night the heroine is dressed as a MAN, but the hero accepts his attraction to a man with unusual aplomb!’ Justine says ‘Sounds great!’ I say, gathering enthusiasm, ‘AND IN THIS ONE SCENE WHERE THE HERO AND HEROINE ARE FENCING’ and Justine says ‘Wait, stop’ and then I say ‘When the heroine kisses the stable boy, it results in’ and Justine says ‘WHY DO YOU WANT TO HURT ME?’

… In conclusion, mea maxima culpa.