Saturday, September 29, 2012

Just three reasons I love being 50

When my mom turned 50, I thought she was ancient. After all, a half a century sounds pretty old to an eight-year-old. (Who knew she’d almost double those years of living?) But now that I stand where she once did, I think this a vibrant age. In fact, if I knew 50 was going to be this good, I might have looked forward to my birthday a little more. It turns out the fifties are great for lots of reasons, but here are just three:

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Just give me a sign!

Yesterday I drove through the state of Idaho. After dropping Grant off at college, Ken and I followed our Google-Maps directions as carefully as we could, working our way across wide-open spaces crisscrossed by highways. Considering neither of us had ever made the trip before, we did pretty well until we got a little off track in Twin Falls, where we had to ask directions from the lone worker at the Reeder Flying Service (airport). “Just go back across the canal, turn left at the first intersection,” she said flatly, “then drive about five miles, and you’ll catch 93.”