A few months ago, I turned sixty-six, something I never dreamed would happen. It wasn’t that I thought I’d die early. I just never visualized

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A few months ago, I turned sixty-six, something I never dreamed would happen. It wasn’t that I thought I’d die early. I just never visualized
Maybe home – where I really belong – is not anywhere I’ve already been. Maybe it’s just a little further on, somewhere over the rainbow. And maybe that’s not wrong.
On the heels of a spectacular neighborhood party on the block last night, I started to think about the qualities that make and have made
Norman was a good boy whose time came last month. I stumbled across this piece (Norman, My Tie That Binds) this morning. I had pushed
“Certainly, travel is more than seeing of sights: it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the idea of living.” – American
I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell a story about my trip to Kentucky last month. Is it about the sights, smells, vibe,