I Had a Handle on Life but It Broke, is the title of a book by fellow professional speaker Mary LoVerde out of Denver, Colorado. Thankfully, you can’t copyright titles, although I’ll always attribute. This one’s too good not to steal…
Halloween dawned, or tried to, with the famous Blue Moon likely to be hidden behind some clouds. This year I spent it a long way away from where I was last year at this time, having moved myself Lock Stock and Barrel to another part of America…
For those of you who are fans of good chick movies, Fried Green Tomatoes is one of my favorites. The inimitable Kathy Bates has one of the best scenes in the entire film, when she slams her car into someone else’s and shouts “I have insurance!!!”
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.
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.
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.
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.
My neighbor across the street lost her husband about a year ago. The huge house she now inhabits is an awful lot of work, as is the yard. The other morning after a seven-inch snowfall, our mutual neighbor was clearing her driveway, as he usually does, as I was digging out my own.
Several weeks ago, a woman commented on an article I’d done about getting older vs. getting old. She told a story about taking a bad fall over a concrete curb, sitting there for a few moments, and then moving on.