Early this morning I found my elderly cat, Sweet Pea, nestled in a box of trash I forgot to take out last night. She was sleeping so soundly that, when I woke her by calling her name and touching her ear, she shook her head, eyed me suspiciously, and hissed. She has been in that box for hours now. And that reminds me of my own behavior at times.
Continue reading “Dreams vs Trash”
When I began riding a motorcycle at age 63, my friends asked, “Are you totally nuts?!” and complete strangers I met while on my bike eyed my graying hair, shook their heads when I said I’d just begun riding, and told me crash stories. But when I subsequently purchased a dirt bike at age 65, my friends just rolled their eyes. Most have gotten used to the idea that I love something they wouldn’t dream of doing. And some even think that’s pretty cool.
Continue reading “The Price of Joy”