Sabrina Lloyd

I am from Florida. Most of my family still lives in Florida. I want my heart to break for the school victims, I want to cry and scream,...

I keep thinking of Hilary Mantel, winner of the Booker Prize, twice. The New Yorker did a wonderful article on her in which she...

There are quite a few things that have surprised me here in Rome. Of course I come from a bias of NY Italians and the Sopranos, but I...

As my sojourn in the states comes to an end and Italy looms closer every day, I find myself reflecting on all I will miss and the things...

Yesterday, I went to Korea. I soaked in soft mineral baths and steamed out a week’s worth of wine before following a tiny Korean woman...

I love how Italians eat lunch. The middle of the day is not just a stop to refuel, to grab something on the go, to get to the next point,...

My husband was recently in Yemen for work. One afternoon, during lunch, an unnamed official from the Ministry of Education kindly offered...

I feel the pull. I think it started with a picture. Or maybe it was just a word. But the roots I felt were slipping, slowly untangling...

I am going to paint a picture for you. Imagine a small windowless room down a flight of stairs in a nondescript strip mall in the...

Kampala, Uganda I remember once when my husband (then boyfriend), who had just come back from Kenya, sat listening to me patiently in NY...

What some girls have for shoes, I have for rugs. Old, dusty, antique floor coverings make my heart pitter-patter like an untrained little...

Yesterday, Rome filled and flooded with those who had come to see Pope John Paul II  beatified. Not wanting to fight the crowds at the...

As a displaced Canadian, my husband occasionally (continuously) touts political systems that have more than two parties, more than red...

One day in Uganda I was picking up our daughter from a play date and wanted to take her picture with her friends. There were two little...

I was wondering today, as I drank my fourth cup of espresso and felt my heart pounding in my toes, how the Italians do it. Espresso,...

Feeling the need to get out of the smoke and noise filled city, we decided to head to Orte yesterday for a little medieval town...

Italians love their sweets. For breakfast it’s always, always dolce. You cannot find a plain croissant in Rome. Most are stuffed with jam...

I had a very interesting conversation yesterday with an African-American now living here in Rome. I brought up the subject of racism and...

In my Italian language class the teacher went around the room and asked each of us where we were from. I was the lone American. An hour...

I recently read an article about prairie voles. When boy p. vole meets girl p. vole and sparks fly they embark upon a 24-hour...