Last year, I was in Santa Fe, New Mexico, at a youth hostel. Tucked away upstairs, in my own spare private room, I pondered this past year.
Reading today’s title, you might want to throw your wine glass at me, but I assure you, there’s a method to my madness. I found it while considering a speech that many of us have heard, or read, from Nelson Mandela…
No matter how old we are, it’s always exciting to have something to look forward to. Working, enjoying retirement, or a little of both. Anticipation is a lovely thing. Every year, I set major goals…
Marion and Roger, a pair of Brits from 40 miles west of London, boarded the ship carefully. They’re in their 70s, and both are intrepid travelers.
The four Indonesian boys, all small but ranging in age from 12 to 14, led us along a tree-lined path. The fenceposts to either side of us as we left the island village were sprouting trees, a testament to the proliferating growth and superb soil of these many islands.
My friend Susan stared at me in disbelief. “You’re going to do what?” She was incredulous. “Go to Africa alone and climb Kilimanjaro at sixty?” She paused for a deep breath.
A few years ago, I spoke to a lively group of women that had been started by my friend Joan Rogliano, a divorced realtor living in Colorado. The Wildflower Group had been formed out of a need for an organization to tend to the needs of recently-widowed and divorced women.
I copied and pasted the scammer’s message into the white block for reporting fake profiles. This was the eighth this week. The copy is almost always identical too, and goes like this: [Some guy] has found the love of his life…
“How do you identify the barnacles and how do you strip them off?” A kind reader posed this question at the bottom of a recent article of mine on Sixty and Me. I was writing about my friend Terri Ducay…
This morning I wrapped up an article about a new friend, Susan McNamee. Susan, 67, lives here in Denver. In her teens, all she ever wanted to do was be a mom.