As I looked down onto the main floor from our second row balcony seats, I saw a lot of people who looked very much like us, age-wise (no surprise, Gen X represented well for these two acts), having a blast.

Later I wondered where all of those people are in their daily listening habits. At nearly 58 years old, I still absolutely adore Adam Ant but his music is no longer in regular, daily rotation around here.

These days I listen to many genres (including but not limited to EDM, Yacht Rock, 80s, 90s, Latin, R&B, and Rap), but the one that is most prominent on my playlists is Pop. That’s because of Roberta.

Starting in the late 80s from 18-22 years old, I worked at a craft store called Lee Wards. (Michael’s eventually gobbled it up: they’re basically the same store.) I started out working at the registers and became a very young shift manager but eventually after much begging on my part, I was moved into the custom framing department to learn those skills.

The Frame Shop manager was Roberta, a grown woman of 33 years who was, like me, married to a Navy man. They even had two young children. Although at the time I thought Roberta was soooo old (LOL), I also found her to be very, very cool. She was really great, both as a boss and as a friend.

We played music in the walled-off workspace behind the counter where we assembled frames, cut mats and glass, and stretched cross stitch projects so they were ready for preservation and hanging on someone’s walls. Typically whoever arrived at work first chose the station, and I was always happy to find that Roberta had chosen pop music on any given morning. We had a lot of music discussions, and she felt like it was important to “keep up with the times,” not only because she was raising children but also just because she didn’t want to get stuck in one music era.

I can still close my eyes and see Roberta shimmy around as she worked, and at some point back then I made a promise to myself that I would keep up with pop music just like she did.

Side note: I love thinking about various people who were woven into my life for just a short time, but from whom I carry wonderful lessons. Admittedly I also sometimes wonder what others take from knowing me…

When my sons were little, we listened to pop music in the car, not children’s music. My older son knew the lyrics to “Baby Got Back” when he was four and I wore that as a badge of honor. Later, they both knew I loved Missy Elliott and had to blast “Work It” whenever that came on. At one point my younger son, then ten years old, asked me to put on another channel because listening to the Black Eyed Peas’ “My Humps” in the same vehicle as his mother was making him uncomfortable. (Of course I switched the channel that day and every other time it came on when we were in the car together: I’m not a monster!)

I wouldn’t say I’m 100% “in the know” these days but I really do try to pay close attention to new pop artists and who the younger generations are listening to. My daughter-in-law and I have similar music tastes, so I will sometimes ask her what new artists she’s finding or who has a new album out, and I’ll give those a shot. (She introduced me to Chappell Roan before she was a known entity, for example.) Once I get into new music from a new-to-me artist who has been on the scene for a while, I’ll dip into their catalog a little further.

Currently my favorite new and new-ish albums are:

• Olivia Rodrigo: “you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love”

• Lizzo: “BITCH”

• Madonna: “Confessions II”

• Bad Bunny: “DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS”

• Harry Styles: “Kiss All the Time. Disco, Occasionally”

• Ikkimel: “POPPSTAR”

• Taylor Swift: “Life of a Showgirl”

• Billie Eilish: “Hit Me Hard and Soft” (not technically “new-ish” anymore but man, I love her so much!)

I have friends who have followed a similar music path to mine and love today’s pop music just as much as I do. I also have friends who listen exclusively to music from the 80s or 90s. I have one friend who listened to pop and new wave in high school but enjoys bluegrass these days (Hi, Kate!). None of this is wrong; obviously music preference is a personal thing.

Personally, I’m just really thankful to Roberta, whose example has kept my interest in music varied and constantly on the move for nearly forty years and counting. We lost touch after I left that job but I think of her often. She’s 71 years young now and hopefully doing well. I like to imagine that she’s shimmying and singing along at the top of her lungs with Olivia Rodrigo in her car, just like I am.

What has your music evolution looked like?

Recently we had to have a repair done because the team who cuts the grass in our neighborhood accidentally caused some damage to our house. The short version of the rest of the story is that we paid the company for the repair immediately, in order to get the part ordered. Then we asked the HOA to work something out with the landscaper, since it was their fault. Six weeks later, our money was still hanging out there, the landscaper had supposedly set up payment with the company doing the repair, and we weren’t seeing anything about a refund.

Cut to me following up with the company doing the repair. I was dealing with our local rep, someone we have worked with before and not some random person on the company’s toll-free number. We would text back and forth every few days: he would tell me that he was checking into things and would let me know of any updates, and I would follow up with him to push him a little bit if things seemed stalled.

This guy, let’s call him Jim Halpert, has always been very nice and friendly in all of our interactions. (Spoiler alert: he remained nice and friendly throughout this experience.)

After six weeks of texting back and forth with Jim Halpert with no result from the company, I was getting fairly fed up. It was not a small amount of money and with the repair happening imminently I was worried that once it was complete, the company would drop the ball on the landscaper’s payment/our refund, moving on to other customers and completely forgetting about us.

I texted Jim Halpert and asked if he had time to call me. He called an hour later and I told him about my concerns. I typically handle tough customer service issues with kindness and a light tone, partly due to how I was raised, partly because of that whole thing about attracting more flies with honey than vinegar, and partly because I have worked in food service, retail, and other jobs that involve being on the receiving end of customer complaint issues. It has always worked for me, and I can come out of interactions feeling good about how I handled myself.

Side note: I have a firm belief that every! single! person! should have to spend some time working in food service or retail because it teaches so much about how to interact nicely.

I told Jim Halpert how frustrated I was becoming over this whole situation, and while I let him know that I understood and appreciated that the snafu wasn’t his fault personally, it was cratering my confidence in his company and gave me pause about using them in the future.

Jim Halpert maintained his friendly tone and at one point he exclaimed incredulously (but in the way a friend would), “I don’t think you’re angry enough about this!”

I felt the frustration that was bubbling in my core start to rise and took a beat to shove it back down, because hoo boy, the last thing Jim Halpert would want is for me to boil over.

My guess is that Jim Halpert has dealt with lots of angry people in times of dispute and not as many people like me, who do their very best to stay calm and collected no matter what. My pause before saying something was to keep myself from boiling over but I also think it allowed him a second to deeply regret poking the bear.

I calmly replied, “You’re not receiving anger from me because I’m a very nice person.”

(That sounds like a line from a mob movie, but please imagine me saying it NOT like a mobster.)

Jim Halpert stammered a little bit and agreed with me (LOL) before telling me that he was going to meet with his boss shortly and he’d let me know by the end of the day if they could get that refund going by the next day. Our conversation ended with the typical niceties and I hung up feeling like Jim Halpert was going to take this to the finish line.

The refund showed up on my credit card account that evening and I was very relieved that I could stop thinking about the situation on a daily basis.

I’m not saying that the way I handled my interactions with Jim Halpert caused the problem to be fixed in the end. In fact, it’s possible that my kindness allowed the company to drag its feet, figuring this was not very important to me. I’ll never know.

What I do know is that I can be a very angry person without others seeing or experiencing it. I can rage and thrash and cry, trust me. That said, I prefer to conduct myself in such a way that is respectful, which is (for me) not being dishonest or insincere. It’s just that I care about other people and their feelings, and I like doing my best to live by the Golden Rule, or treating others the way I would want to be treated.

While nice guys are said to finish last, I think that the nice guys also probably sleep better at night. I will continue to promote kindness and say for the thousandth time that if we could ALL start acting in ways that consider other people and their feelings, we’d be in a much better place as a community.

I realized something two years ago that made me change some habits. It is hidden in the paragraph above:

“every single time I check in on the platform throughout the day…”

I thought to myself, “Hold on a second. I’m spending a lot of birthday time on Facebook. That’s not good. I should be fully focused on my phone calls with my close friends and family, lunching with friends, driving around town to collect my free birthday goodies, enjoying the heck out of the steak my husband grilled and the cake my sister made, and doing anything else that makes me feel super happy.”

(Of course, well wishes on Facebook make me super happy but taking the time to constantly check in does not.)

Last year, I allowed myself a morning check in and then a check in after dinner, just to read what others had posted (and respond to those who posted photos of us with a lengthy caption). I waited until the next day to respond to most others.

Facebook has made it very easy to wish your connections a happy birthday:

1. They provide a morning reminder with a list of connections who are celebrating a birthday that day, along with recent birthdays in case you missed them, and upcoming birthdays so you don’t miss them.

2. They provide pre-written suggestions, complete with celebratory emojis, that you can employ with one click. It’s literally a no-brainer. (For the record, I usually alter the pre-written suggestions to make them a teeny bit more personal.)

And that’s the problem. Why are we absentmindedly performing a no-brainer exercise to give some of the most impersonal birthday greetings ever, to people we care about?

Don’t get me wrong; I am still very grateful each and every time somebody cares enough to simply acknowledge my birthday on social media. I know that the majority of the people with whom I’m connected on social media don’t even do the birthday thing, or they do it selectively, and that’s fine. I’m not ever heartbroken if someone I met at a blogging conference in 2010 and with whom I have online conversations in comments only every once in a blue moon does not wish me happy birthday.

In another effort to get away from the artificial nature of social media, what I started doing nearly a year ago is texting happy birthday greetings, ON AN ACTUAL PHONE. Sometimes I’ll make a phone call, even if it’s someone I haven’t actually spoken with in a couple of years. This is really fun and if you enjoy chatting on the phone I highly recommend it.

Get this: sometimes I even SEND A CARD via snail mail. But honestly, I’m not as consistent as I want to be with that. Something else to work on!

Sure, Facebook gives me the nudge. But now, when it comes to people I know well enough to have stored their number in my contacts, I put those dates in my actual calendar if they weren’t already there. That way I won’t necessarily need dumb old Facebook next year and I’ll have the dates if Facebook implodes someday.

Then, I do not send well wishes via their Facebook page and instead text or call them directly (with close friends I might also post a photo of us with a long caption because that’s just fun). Yes, really! It can be done!

There are a couple of wonderful things that happen as a result of doing things this way:

1. The birthday person feels more special, and who doesn’t love that?

2. It’s a great way to briefly—you don’t want to keep them for an extended text session: it’s their birthday!—catch up, before wishing them a fun day with lots of cake and other treats.

Sometimes technology is great. I love being able to share calendars and a grocery list with my husband that we can update from our phones. I love spell check (most of the time). I love being able to research a European vacation from the comfort of my living room or office. And…I do love being able to “keep in touch” with people online. That said, I’m becoming more and more interested in actually keeping in touch privately and without as much screen time, because it feels better and more genuine to me. Technology only as a helper is, in my opinion, the best way forward. I think that once we start letting technology take over every detail of our lives, it will take away a lot of the uniqueness that makes us interesting. And that doesn’t make me super happy at all. How about you?

This was a big change: before this wave of caring about our planet and our community came across the airwaves (on radio and TV), it was a normal occurrence for smokers to toss their finished cigarette butts out the car window (or wherever), for gum chewers to toss their wrappers on the ground (or wherever), for anyone, anywhere to generally dispose of their trash wherever they happened to be. Not all smokers, not all gum chewers, not everyone was a litterbug of course, but trash cans weren’t as plentiful in public back then as they are now, and littering was socially accepted.

Fast forward to 1:29 on this scene from one of the best shows in television history to get a glimpse of how it used to be:

I, and probably you, would NEVER. And that’s a good thing for countless reasons. Our overflowing landfills are one thing, but can you imagine what our communities would look like if we were still accepting of Don and Betty’s post-picnic behavior?

Personally, I enjoy clean surroundings. While I’m not a total neat freak at home 24/7, I do prefer when everything has a place, and I start to get itchy when there’s clutter. I like the same in public spaces, and although it would be impossible (and unfair) for me to keep everything in the world tidy by myself, I do what I can. I imagine that the constant drilling from the “Keep America Beautiful” and “Don’t Be a Litterbug” campaigns played a part in developing the way I clean up after myself—and sometimes others—in public.

For me it’s not as much a way to preserve the planet (though that is very important!), either; it’s a way to help care for others. It’s a form of kindness. I want us all to have nice things!

If I pick up something in a store that I intend to purchase and then, at some point on my way to the register I decide that I don’t want it anymore, I put it back where I found it or I hand it to the cashier and let them know that I changed my mind. I do not like to put it down wherever I happen to be in the store, even though that’s the super easy way out, because that makes unnecessary work for others.

If you really want to see me rage out, go ahead and leave a refrigerated or frozen product on a shelf in the middle of the grocery store. The laziness! The waste! The lack of regard for the store and its employees, not to mention the people in the community who are having a hard time affording food!

If I stay in a hotel, I clean up before the housekeeper comes. This was drilled into me by my parents—my dad was a hotel manager for four decades and my mom was the wife of that hotel manager, who didn’t want any potential bad behavior by any of us to reflect poorly on her husband/our dad—but also, it is simply a nice thing to do. Is it a housekeeper’s job to clean up the room? Yes, but leaving extra messes around said room when their main job is to make sure that what belongs to the hotel is clean—sheets changed/bed made, floor vacuumed, bathroom and surfaces cleaned and sanitized, supplies restocked—makes their job much more difficult and time-consuming.

If I am at the gym and someone has left a wet paper towel on a machine after wiping it down for the next person, I dispose of it myself. Sometimes people forget and sometimes people are just jerks. I like to focus on the former.

I was at a store a few months ago where I was looking for a travel-sized fragrance to purchase. I used several paper tester strips and, when I made my final selection, I looked for a nearby trash can. There wasn’t one so I took the paper strips to the register with me and asked the cashier if I could throw them away in her trash can.

She took them from me, threw them away, and thanked me sincerely. It wasn’t a typical, quick, “Hey, thanks!” It was a kind of amazed gratitude. As she took the paper strips from me, her eyes widened and she said, “You have no idea how much I appreciate your bringing these to me. We find them over there on the floor every single day.”

“Really?” I asked. “I don’t understand why people would just use the floor as a trash can.”

I also wondered why the store manager hadn’t put a small, plastic trash can by the fragrances, but that was neither here nor there.

We had a conversation about how people can be very thoughtless about their surroundings and about others who share space. She rang up my fragrance and thanked me again as I left the store.

These are little things that take very little time and effort, yet they aren’t standard behavior for everyone. We as a civilization, especially Americans, spend so much time wondering “What’s in it for me?” before we do something for anyone else that the little things tend to fall by the wayside. The reasons for this are endless and definitely worthy of a whole other opinion piece, but I simply think we need to bring back the allure of pleasant feelings that come from doing good deeds. Do good, feel good.

My friend said, “I just don’t like being on it, really. It’s so negative,” and then went into specific reasons — reasons that didn’t surprise me one bit. Then, my friend told me that, in order to make Instagram a better place for occasional check-ins, they spent a few hours muting posts and stories by a huge number of people.

“That way,” my friend said, “I’m not actually unfollowing anybody, so they keep their numbers, and I can go directly to their grid and check in any time…but I’m only regularly seeing exactly who I care the most about.”

I thought this was a great idea, and I decided to work towards that goal.

Here’s something I haven’t done before: I am getting ready to give you, in great detail, my method of whittling down the number of accounts I follow on Instagram. If you don’t really care (Wow, that’s rude.) (KIDDING!), you can simply scroll until you see the color photo. Start reading again right after that.

First, I had to consider the accounts I follow.

They include so many people from my blogging (and blogging conference) days. The people in that group fall into a few categories:

1. People who connected with me (or I with them) online because we have mutual friends, but we’ve never met in person and really don’t interact online either

2. People I have only met in person briefly and with whom I had one or two very short personal interactions

   1. Some of these are people with whom I chat occasionally via messaging and post interactions

   2. Some of them connected with me (or I with them) after that quick in-person meet-up, and that connect request acceptance was the only and last interaction we’ve had online

3. People with whom I have spent some in-person time and also stay in touch with via messaging and interacting on each other’s posts

4. People who I consider to be “active friends.”

I also follow a lot of celebrities, local businesses, and political accounts, from reputable news sources to reputable content creators to politicians themselves. And naturally, I follow my sister, my adult sons and their spouses, and other family members.

Thinking about the accounts I follow and how they fit into these categories made it easier for me to decide who to mute. My strategy was not to sit with it and do all of my muting in one sitting like my friend did; rather, I thought about the categories above and, as I scroll through the platform each time, I’ll mute a little bit here and there.

I’m also not muting nearly as many accounts as my friend did. Mainly the ones I don’t really care to see in my feed are the people who I’m connected with strictly because of mutual friends. It’s nothing personal: I don’t even know them personally! So…mute.

From the second category, I am muting the people with whom I don’t ever interact online. An in-person interaction or two doesn’t really go far if you ghosted each other after hitting “follow.” So…mute.

The other group of people in the second category are the ones with whom I’ve had online interactions. I want to continue to give those relationships a chance to bloom and thrive. So…not muting.

Categories three and four are no-brainers…not muting.

Celebrities are a tough one for me. None of them are following me for some reason (WINK), so if I find that I’m following one who has become less interesting to me over time, I just unfollow them. I have continued to follow most of them though, because I like to keep up with that sort of thing as a #PopCultureEnthusiast. (Are the kids still hashtagging phrases within written articles?) Not muting and mostly not unfollowing.

I follow a ridiculous number of businesses that are local to Chicago (my hometown) and Knoxville (my current town, also sort of homey). Keeping up with what’s happening in Chicago makes me feel more connected to a city I miss deeply. Knoxville, being the size of a large Chicago suburb, has a lot going on with its Makers scene, Foodie scene, Market scene, (all three amazing) and more. Because I like to keep up with local news, events, and other miscellanea, not muting.

The politically-related accounts I follow are excessive mainly because this category runs the gamut from local candidates and organizations to national ones. It’s my civic responsibility to keep up with what’s going on in this dumpster fire of a timeline we’re currently inhabiting, and I feel like I’m giving myself a fairly well-rounded summary of the madness — and more importantly, the hope that truly does exist — each time I check in. So, not muting.

Finally, it goes without saying that I will follow my family members indefinitely. Not muting.

TL:DR: (Welcome back, if you skipped that part above!) I am consistently working on reevaluating who I am following on social media similar to how I consistently reevaluate what I keep in my closets and drawers, and thinning out when I can. I’m not disposing of what truly matters to me in either case. The less impact or meaning something has in my life, the more I can feel good about not expending time or energy on it (or them). While my process on this social media clean up hasn’t made my feed super tight and tidy, I can tell a difference. That not only gives me a little more room to breathe, but it’s a time-saver when scrolling, too.

And by the way, that friend of mine? We stay in touch via text and the occasional call, and I love taking the time for that.

Do you have a practice that works when it comes to social media accounts you follow? I’d love to know: share in comments!

I do vote in every local election, but because I’m a liberal person in a red state, I also wanted to see if I could find a volunteer spot with a local campaign. So many people declare that the rest of the country should “give up on the South” or say things to us like “I don’t get how you can live there,” which helped power that desire to help.

The fact is, while I despise the supermajority that has Tennessee in its grips right now, we absolutely won’t/can’t trim that back without liberal folks like me putting in a bunch of work to get better representatives in there. Our national representation is similar: there is currently one Democratic representative from Tennessee—out of nine—in the House, and he is retiring due to the recent gerrymandering idiocy that cracked the state’s only Black-majority area (Memphis) into three GOP-leaning pieces. Both of our state senators are Republican.

I didn’t have to look far for a campaign that hit the sweet spot for me. Michaela Barnett is running in my district to take over Tim Burchett’s seat in the U.S. Congress. I did some reading about her in February, and I know she could do such a good job for Knoxville and the surrounding areas in TN-02.

But this isn’t specifically about Michaela, who happens to be super smart, super qualified, and super sweet. (Okay, that part was specifically about her.) It’s about the—mostly—young people working at her campaign headquarters.

I signed up for a Zoom volunteer training session, and as much as every campaign needs people to phone bank and knock on doors, I wanted to see if I could help in a more “me” way by doing something that utilizes my love of organization and spreadsheets, something at campaign headquarters that was a regular gig (and not performed on evenings or weekends) so that I could see the effects of my contributions while actively making connections with other like-minded people.

During the volunteer session, the Field Director mentioned that the campaign needed some help with their merch. I perked up, and reached out to her immediately after the training ended.

Since early March, I’ve been volunteering at campaign headquarters one afternoon each week, pulling merchandise from boxes and assembling orders while contributing to a shared spreadsheet that has around twenty tabs and grows every week (HaHaSob!). I create order labels, I deliver the orders to the pick-up location, I do inventory, and I generally help with whatever else comes up, merch-wise. The system is a work-in-progress, constantly changing, and I adore being a part of it all.

Nearly everyone on the campaign team is in their twenties or thirties. Michaela is in her thirties, and I’m not sure if that’s related to the average age of her main volunteers since this is the first time I’ve worked with a campaign.

I LOVE arriving at headquarters every Thursday. The energy is palpable, everyone is so friendly, and it feels really good to be working together to bring change to our corner of East Tennessee. I love being a part of this, and from the top (Michaela, who has the biggest smile and is so grateful to everyone who is a part of this) to my fellow volunteers (collectively referred to as the “Cavalry” by the campaign), the whole operation is just a breath of fresh air for me.

I’m in my fifties but on most days I feel much younger. On Thursdays when I get the opportunity to spend a couple of hours with ACTUAL young people who are gladly working so hard to try and improve the world they are inheriting, well, I highly recommend finding a way to get a piece of that in your life.

Times were very different when I was in my twenties and thirties, and while I generally should have been paying more attention to politics than I was, there also wasn’t a firehose of political bad news every day. These days, the “kids” are getting involved at a much younger age than I believe has ever happened historically. It’s really fun to watch this up close.

Local campaigns really need a lot of help, from the aforementioned phone banking and door knocking (canvassing) to administrative work, to campaign sign delivery, to merch drops, to lots of other things. If you want to be involved, a local campaign will gladly make a space for you to assist in ways that fit your skills and your schedule. All you have to do is ask.

Regardless of what happens on Election Day this November (and obviously it’s my biggest hope that we have enough voter turnout in this historically non-voting state to get Michaela elected!), I’m going to continue to seek out future local candidates who share my values, and then ask them how I can help: I’ve got merch experience, after all!

Two conversations I consider to be among the most important in my life are the ones I had with each of my daughters-in-law, right after each of them became engaged to my sons, about a year apart. I sat down with each of them and told them how thrilled I was to be “getting daughters” and how I looked forward to many, many years of making memories together. I also shared some important information, including but not limited to:

1. I’m a very good communicator.

2. I always have good intentions.

3. I’d appreciate if, should a problem arise, they would come directly to me so I can fix it/make amends, because see number 2.

Both young women were very touched that I initiated the conversations, and what I love is that it set up a really good foundation for our relationships: they know what they can expect from me.

Fast forward to this year, when my younger son and daughter-in-law were expecting our grandson. Jim and I have had a ton of conversations (see??) about respecting their boundaries as the parents of the baby, and making sure that we do our best to support them and also not give unsolicited advice. (We’re not perfect at it but I give us an A-.)

One thing I asked the two of them about a few months ago was their stance on photos of their baby on social media. I post a lot of pictures of their dog, and of my other son and daughter-in-law’s dog, when we’re together. But dogs aren’t people.

When I initially brought it up I said, “You probably haven’t thought about this very much yet, but I’m asking you to think about your social media policy once the baby is born. I’ll ask you about it again after you have some time to figure it out.”

Last week when we visited them and our new grandson, I brought it up again. “Did you have a chance to figure out your social media policy? My plan wouldn’t be to post lots of pictures like I do with the dogs. With your permission I’d like to post a few photos when we visit, but it’s totally up to you. If you want me to only post pictures in which his face isn’t clear, that’s fine. Or if you don’t want me to post any pictures at all, I will absolutely respect that.” And I meant it.

They said that they were fine with posting a few pictures, even ones where his cute little face was showing, but always when he is clothed.

“Oh my goodness,” I said. “I would never post photos of him unclothed.” (Nobody, not even the parents, should post photos of unclothed children on the internet, ever, just saying.)

But it was also really good that they set that very clear expectation, because they discussed it thoughtfully and came up with that very important part of their policy.

So often we see—on television, movies, social media, and also “in real life”—that grandparents come in like a wrecking ball, throwing around some kind of perceived privilege and a blatant disrespect for the parents’ rules when it comes to their grandkids.

I’m not talking about gently spoiling the grandkids in harmless ways. I think that’s a requirement, isn’t it? WINK.

One of the many great things about being a grandparent is that we’ve already done the work; we’ve already raised our kids. And it was hard sometimes! We have to remember those tough times when our kids grow up and have kids of their own. The last thing I want to do is make things even harder for them.

I want to be a bright spot. I want my sons and daughters-in-law (and my grandson!) to gladly want to spend time with me. I want to have their trust. I want them to know that they can talk to me whether they need advice, an ear, or just to chat. I want them to feel comfortable asking for help when they need it. And I want them to be proud of me for who I am and how I operate.

The road to all of those things is paved with good communication, and I’m thrilled for every single opportunity to get to work on it.

Something that I have read several times is that becoming a grandparent is like a form of time travel because it can feel like you’re able to spend time with your own children as babies again with a whole lot more knowledge and experience this time around. I was excited to see if this was an accurate description, and I’m happy to report that it is!

First, we immediately saw our son in his face when we received the first photos from the delivery room. It was absolutely surreal to see that family resemblance in this brand new baby. Over the next week, other photos revealed a resemblance to his mom (our daughter-in-law), too. The whole thing has made me spend more time thinking about how fascinating genetics is than ever before.

We excitedly made the nine-hour drive to meet him last Friday, when he was a week old. Holding him and helping care for him in many other ways since then has been mind blowing. The sounds he makes, the way he moves, the way he roots around for milk when he’s hungry (especially when I’m trying to burp him and his rooting feels like little baby kisses on my cheek), all of these things take me back more than thirty years, to the time when I was caring for my own new babies. None of this is bittersweet; it’s pure happiness. Additionally, my confidence with it all is, of course, much higher than it was when I was a new mom, and my stress level is infinitely lower.

I’m greatly anticipating when he is able to smile on purpose (rather than accidentally, because of gas), when he’s able to giggle, and when he’s able to walk and talk. But I’m not rushing things. I’m simply ecstatic to be his Mimi, traveling forward in time with him as he grows. I plan to enjoy every minute of it.

Our first grandchild was born a couple of days ago (a boy, and he’s perfect). We are going to meet him very soon, and in trying to take care of all the things before we leave I’m feeling very stressed. The adrenaline rush of having a new grandchild is amplifying that feeling, but I don’t mind. The reward—baby snuggles—is just over the horizon.

Anyway, I was making chicken salad yesterday afternoon. It’s a recipe from my sister and it is quite literally the best chicken salad ever. It’s full of chopped up ingredients, including grapes. This chicken salad is so good that we buy croissants for chicken salad sandwiches, literally the only time I ever buy (plain) croissants.

(I have been known to enjoy a chocolate croissant when I travel and find myself in a bakery, full disclosure.)

Wait, what was I saying?

My husband and I had gone grocery shopping over the weekend and, as I inspected the bags of grapes in the produce department, I found myself feeling very annoyed because they were much smaller than usual. I really needed grapes, though, so I grabbed a bag.

As I followed the recipe yesterday, on a break from work and with all that I still had to do still swimming around in my brain, I read “Halve the grapes.” I sighed out loud, remembering how small those grapes were and feeling dread for the task of cutting each one in half.

After I washed a bunch of the grapes, I pulled them off the stem and put them on my cutting board. I picked up the knife. The knife was in the air over the first grape, poised to carefully slice it in half, when my brain slowed its whirring down enough for me to realize that the grapes were so small that I didn’t even need to halve them.

The joy that I felt over this simple thing was huge, and I laughed as it washed over me. “Duh!” I said to myself. “Slow down!”

Many of us try to work faster when we have a lot on our plate. Feeling overwhelmed can make us think that if we could just get everything done and “checked off the list,” all will be well. Sadly, it’s when we work at great speed when mistakes, miscalculations, and bad decisions can be made.

Another example came today, when I took my mom to the craft store. She was in need of some frames (the reason for our stop) and as we walked towards that department, she asked me if I knew how to make bead bracelets.

“Yes,” I said. “Why?”

She explained that at the painting conference she’s attending in another state with a friend later this summer, they’re going to have a friendship bracelet exchange.

My mom is 82 and I hope I am still traveling with gusto, making things by hand, and generally enjoying life to the fullest when I’m her age. I think I have a good shot.

“How fun!” I said, believing that it would be fun but already fast forwarding to the day I would go to her house to help her with the bracelets. She has difficulty with fine motor skills these days, and I mentally winced in pain at the thought of that future—and probably endless—afternoon. I couldn’t really see her being able to string beads, which would be extremely frustrating for her and in fact probably not a realistic endeavor without any beads thrown at the wall, by her and also me. I did not mention this thought because she really wanted to do it and I didn’t want to “yuck her yum” (are the kids still saying that?), and I helped her try to find a kit. Beading supplies are expensive when you buy everything separately!

She said she needed enough supplies to make six or eight bracelets. We couldn’t find any kits that weren’t giving “I’m going to the Taylor Swift Eras Tour next weekend,” so we went to look at what she needed if she was going to buy the supplies separately. I was trying to move things along so I could get home and start my work day, and I picked up my browsing speed, pushing my cart quickly up one aisle and down the next, wondering how we could get out of there in the next ten minutes.

The beads became a blur as my eyes quickly scanned the strands, and I was remembering she’d need clasps and cords and…what else?

“Slow down,” I heard my inner voice say.

I stopped in the middle of the aisle, took a deep breath, and noticed four hooks just below my eye level that displayed pre-made stretchy bracelets with really nice looking, small, round beads. They were sold in sets of three for twelve dollars per set.

I called for my mom to come over and take a look. “Here, I think you should buy these. They look great, they’re four dollars per bracelet, and they’re already done! Literally nobody is going to know or care that you didn’t actually make them. You’ll have what you need to do the bracelet exchange.”

She took a couple sets off of the hook and admired them.

I continued, “I have a feeling you were more excited about the actual bracelet exchange than trying to string those beads. I think it would be hard for you and you would become very frustrated. This solves that issue. Check, done!”

She smiled. “Sold.”

Don’t get me wrong: sometimes working fast is necessary and bad things don’t always happen when we’re in a rush. However, slowing down makes us more mindful in general, which is always a good thing, and it really can lead us to best outcomes.

Note to self!

And to you, if you need it!

If I’m not reading about someone’s life, I’m usually reading non-fiction books in other genres. I like learning, and I like the style in which non-fiction is written. It’s also the style in which I am most comfortable writing, so I think that’s another connection point.

I don’t read a lot of fiction these days. I used to eat it up, decades ago. I have many friends who blow through novels like they’re comic books (speed-wise), and I often feel left out when there is a “book of the moment” being discussed by seemingly everybody. Usually I just dig my nose (or ears, because audio books) deeper into my non-fiction.

There have been two exceptions in the past two years. I read (listened to), at my daughter-in-law’s recommendation, #1 New York Times Bestseller The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid and was absolutely blown away at how great it was. Then I discovered that I was probably the last person on earth to read it, since it had been published in 2017. It doesn’t matter. A great book stands the test of time.

The other exception is the one I finished just this morning, Yesteryear by Caro Claire Burke, another #1 New York Times Bestseller. (Props to me for reading a “book of the moment” that is still in its moment: it was published only two months ago!)

My reaction to this book is confusing, and I know I’m not alone. The book blurb on Burke’s website (and copied/pasted to ensure I don’t reveal any spoilers) says:

“A traditional American woman, a beautiful wife and mother who sells her pioneer lifestyle of raw milk and farm-fresh eggs to her millions of social media followers, suddenly awakens cold, filthy, and terrified in the brutal reality of 1855—where she must unravel whether this living nightmare is an elaborate hoax, a twisted reality show, or something far more sinister in this sensational debut novel.”

Upon reading the first chapter, I texted several friends: “Have you read Yesteryear yet? I don’t think I can do it!”

The first chapter made me very uneasy. I started blogging in 2008 (I was a Jan in my Brady Bunch Blogger Theory™), when nothing was monetized yet and bloggers were mostly writers who were looking for a way to tell their real life stories or share their fiction with a wider audience than ever before. Modern-day influencers are a completely different animal. Also, “trad wife” culture and conservative, religious families make me itchy.

Most of my friends told me I should stick with the book, as much as they were torn about whether or not it was “good.” A couple of my friends suggested I just bail if I felt that way.

But I was intrigued, and I kept going.

I’m glad I did. The funny thing is, I really can’t say with confidence whether I loved it, but I think I did…? The characters were insufferable, but Burke’s use of satire was right on the nose. As depressing as parts of it were for a liberal, non-Christian person such as myself, I still felt like the book couldn’t have been published at a more perfect time in history, when there are ideological battles in the news every single day. I’m going to be thinking about this one for a long time.

So, what makes a book great? Is it the writing? The characters? The timeliness? The subject? The cover art? The length?

We all pick up a book having vastly different life experiences and triggers and beliefs and values and preferences from the person who is grabbing another copy of the same book from the shelf. Each book is going to be enjoyed—or not—by a person in a different way from anyone else. “Great,” then, is relative and personal.

In thinking about what makes a book “great” for me personally, two big factors are:

1. Whether it brings out some kind of emotion in me

2. Whether it’s written in such a way that makes me feel like I have to keep reading it, so I can find out how it ends

Yesteryear had both of those qualities, especially the second one. The more I read, the more I couldn’t put it down. The twist at the end was masterful, and made all of the angst I experienced at the beginning very much worth it. Can a book be “great” according to my own specifications yet still make me wonder if I loved it? Apparently it can.

What makes a book “great” for you?

I had a slew of activities planned for us on the weekend ahead of his workweek, and then for myself on my solo days. California is one of my very favorite places to visit, no matter the metropolitan area. Give me LA! Give me San Fran! Give me San Diego! Whatever. I’m not picky: I love it all.

What I noticed during my busy week is how gloriously happy I was, all the time. I remembered reading about how part of the reason Californians are so happy is because the weather is perfect more often than not, and I agree but also think there are other elements to consider. Anyway, I was happy and smiling. Inject California into my veins!

• Walking on the beach? Happy.

• Walking near the beach? Happy.

• Driving around to see the sights? Happy.

• Strolling through an orange grove? Happy.

• Shopping for souvenirs? Happy.

• Eating great food? Happy.

• Taking pictures? Happy.

• Talking to strangers? Happy.

• Visiting with friends? Happy.

One day near the end of my trip when I was sitting in traffic—one of the only things about California that doesn’t make me happy—it occurred to me that I’m pretty happy in other places too, especially when I’m on vacation. Duh.

Naturally, when work isn’t getting in the way of having fun it’s very easy to be gloriously happy. So there it was, the actual truth about my Happy Place: it’s always changing.

Yes, I love the state of California but I also love the state of New Jersey. I love cities like Chicago (my hometown!), Kenosha, Nashville, Columbus, New York City, and Boston. I’m very happy in all of those places.

Unfortunately, work is still a necessity (and I do love my job!) and even though I travel much more than the average person, I’m unable to travel as much as I’d like to. That’s probably true for many people.

I have started thinking about how I can do vacation-like things at home, because even though I absolutely love home, I’m not often in that “gloriously happy” state that vacation brings on.

As with most things, perspective has a lot to do with it.

Doing things in my home area, even errands, with a fresh eye and a forced (at first: fake it til you make it!) sense of lightness feels nice. Abandoning—or finishing—the errands and taking a scenic drive instead of going straight home is fun. Texting a friend to see if they want to meet up at a new restaurant is a little tourist-y in a good way. Taking the afternoon off and ditching a to-do list in favor of going to get a little ice cream sundae that will definitely not ruin my dinner feels deliciously wrong. Or maybe I could just have the sundae for dinner. I’m an adult and can do what I want!

I think we get so ingrained in our home habits that the daily grind becomes something that drags us and our mood down a little bit, even if we feel generally content. Mostly, it’s not happiness in the euphoric sense. I used to be a person who deeply resisted change, but once I started loosening up about the structure I clung to for dear life, I really did become a happier, more relaxed person. I’m still working on it, but working on it is actually fun for me!

If I had to make a list of activities in my home base city that make me happy, I wouldn’t have to think too hard about it.

• Driving the back roads in my convertible? Happy.

• Enjoying lunch or dinner at our favorite restaurants? Happy.

• Looking for murals and other public art? Happy.

• Declaring Pajama Day? Happy.

• Floating the day away in our neighborhood pool? Happy.

• Browsing a cute local shop or two? Happy.

• Taking in a comedy show or a musical at our theater? Happy.

• Going on a photo walk? Happy.

• Taking a drive all the way up to the Smoky Mountains just to get rolled ice cream or visit the outlet mall? Happy.

• Taking a drive all the way up to the Smoky Mountains just to take a drive all the way up to the Smoky Mountains? Happy.

What I have to remind myself is that even though I can’t be on vacation all the time, I can fit a lot of fun (and happiness) into my day-to-day life, just by making the effort.

And so can you.

• How did we do?

• Tell us what you think of our product!

• Help others with your feedback!

I really try to think about these endless pleas for my input from a marketing standpoint. I have years of experience in marketing, retail, and the service industry. I know that customer/patient/client feedback can be used strategically to make improvements in the best case scenario and to at least have slight knowledge about what your base is generally experiencing (even if you’re not going to do anything about it) in the least best case scenario. I also know that people are much more likely to take the time and make the effort to complain in writing or by phone, unprompted, than they are to take the time and make the effort to give someone the compliments and thanks they deserve in writing or by phone, unprompted. I understand that putting my review on Google or Yelp or some other internet site is going to be handy for potential customers who want a sneak peek into their potential experience. I get it! I really do!

That said, none of us have time for the infinite number of requests we are receiving. In fact, I picked up a two-item order from a department store last Wednesday afternoon, and on Friday morning I received an email whose subject line was “What did you think about your order?”

I deleted it. Two hours later, I received another email from the same store: “Your opinion matters to us!”

I deleted it. An hour later, I received a third email from them: “Tell us about your recent purchase and win!”

I visited my periodontist last week and have already received two text reminders to tell them how they did. My dental hygienist of about six years talked about how we have such a great connection—while I nodded in agreement, during our (mostly one-way because her tools were in my mouth) conversation—as she worked and then hugged me when I was leaving. Talk to her, Dr. Perio! She’ll tell you that I love your office!

What I prefer over a survey is a real-time check on my level of satisfaction, like the ones you can usually find in the bathrooms in airports, at some gas stations and fast food restaurants, and at, of all places, the United States Post Office. These places have either a screen hanging on the wall (or in the case of the post office, on the screen of the credit card machine) that either has a green happy face, a yellow “it’s fine” face, and a red mad face or a simple question, like “How did we do today?” with a very short range of answers. All you have to do is touch the one of your choice on your way out and then never, ever think about it again. To me, that kind of feedback seems like it would be a much more fair and representative sample of customers. I haven’t done any research on this, naturally, but I imagine that those quickie, one-action surveys are getting a lot more action than the incessant texts and emails.

I am the type of person who enjoys letting people or businesses know when they’ve done something that I consider above and beyond, and I also enjoy letting them know when they have failed to do the most basic requirements of the job. I have answered surveys in both cases, and I have written detailed letters in both cases. The key factor is that it is my decision, and I really just want my inbox and my phone to have some peace and quiet.

Maybe I’m just old.

I’m not saying that businesses should assume that “no news is good news,” but could we perhaps we can get one, single survey request and then let it be? Asking for me.

I was going to ask you to leave a comment letting me know how many surveys you estimate hit your phone or inbox each week and how many you actually answer, but then I realized that’s sort of like asking you to do a survey. Never mind! Thanks for stopping by!

I kept all of that information in my brain without much effort until the last couple of years. With the addition of two daughters-in-law about whom I care deeply (and thus I have to, gladly, remember two more people’s stuff) combined with perimenopause brain (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it), I found myself asking questions multiple times because I just can’t retain every crumb of helpful information anymore. “WHAT was your favorite flavor at Nothing Bundt Cakes again?? I know I just asked you two months ago but I forgot.” What a bummer.

That’s where technology comes in, thank goodness.

I literally keep a list in my phone called “Preferences So I Don’t Forget.” It includes things like:

• a reminder about one daughter-in-law who doesn’t have pierced ears (I forgot and bought her earrings not once, but two times)

• a reminder that one son and one daughter-in-law don’t like peanuts as a topping (I can’t remember how that question came about)

• a reminder that one family member doesn’t like pomegranate seeds

• a mention of the two relatives who like caramel corn ONLY, not cheese or the caramel/cheese mix, from Garrett’s Popcorn Shop in Chicago

• the flavors of tuna pouches my husband doesn’t like to eat for lunch

You get the idea.

I even have a reminder on the list for myself: “Order Power Greens from CAVA, not Super Greens! Super Greens are crunchy and gross!”

The list is obviously a work-in-progress but also a labor of love. Occasionally I chuckle to myself thinking about how someday (hopefully not for another forty years or so) my kids will be looking through my phone to see if I left anything important or interesting in there, and maybe they’ll see the list and shake their heads comically at each other as they smile and mutter, “Yeah, mom was like that!”

I hope that by then my preferences list will be an annoyingly long and, more importantly, absolutely hilarious record of my attention to detail.

In fact, hilarity is a good goal. I’m going to work on that.

I have relationships all along the scale with these people: some of them I am just getting to know in a first-time-working-together situation. Some of these people who write the blog posts are folks I have worked with semi-regularly for a few years. I have worked with several of them so often that we make jokes in our back-and-forth emails: jokes about general life stuff or, in the case of a couple of them who don’t mind the ribbing and are good at laughing at themselves, their chronic lateness. A couple of them are not only always on time with their assignments but also send me articles of near-grammatical perfection attached to an email that says “Feel free to make any edits you want,” and then I rarely have any to make. Those people are obviously my favorites.

Throughout the time I’ve been managing this blog and working with so many people who have so many different styles and so many different personalities and so many different needs, it’s an absolute pleasure to have an unexpected moment of enhanced understanding about and connection with someone that unexpectedly pops up in a thoughtful email thread.

About a month ago, I received a final draft from someone who wrote,

My mouth sort of fell open for a second when I read that because it’s so rare that people actually share out loud that they’re trying to do what a whole lot of us are also trying to do. I was so happy that she felt comfortable sharing that with me. My response:

We all seem to be paddling like ducks, trying to achieve and maintain some semblance of work-life balance with the added heavy-duty, universal stresses of the cost of living and the intense political climate. In order to find any sense of peace, we have to make multiple tough decisions every single day.

In that moment, it was my co-worker’s excellent (in my opinion) decision to be a little vulnerable with me about her situation, and it was my absolute pleasure to greet that decision with grace, kindness, and understanding, because I do understand.

Communicating honestly (and gently, when that’s needed) with other people is one of my favorite things to do. Learning to provide grace and meet people where they are, not with any expectation of their returning the favor (though it’s always lovely when they do!) but merely because we’re imperfect human beings who deserve that much and more, is something I’m starting to see more of in the world—because I make it a point to look for it—and it brightens my day every time.

This habit has definitely intensified as I’ve grown older. Naturally I absolutely love when someone I love affirms how they feel about me, or tells me something that makes me feel really good, but it’s equally nice to be on the giving end of it. I don’t share my feelings with others while having expectations of anything like a similar share in return: just making others feel comforted/happy/loved makes me feel really good/cozy/happy. It’s another one of those win-win situations.

There are lots of ways to love people out loud. The easiest one for me is what I wrote above: just saying it. I am effusive without worrying what others think about that, even on social media. If anyone is going to feel internally like I’m some kind of weirdo for publicly expressing my love for someone else, that’s really just sad and it tells me that perhaps they are missing something in their own life. Go big or go home.

There are lots of ways to loudly love others: the possibilities are endless, really. If you’re in need of ideas, I’d suggest that you consider the five love languages that Gary Chapman, PhD wrote in his 1992 book, The 5 Love Languages: The Secret to Love That Lasts. Thinking about these categories can get the creative part of your brain going:

1. Words of Affirmation

2. Gifts

3. Acts of Service

4. Quality Time

5. Physical Touch

I already detailed how I use words of affirmation. I love giving gifts, too. I am not ashamed to say that I’m a pretty good gift-giver. I’m that person who is making notes in her phone when someone mentions a cool thing they’d love to have or a new hobby they’ve taken up. I love creating something with my own hands that I know someone else will appreciate, especially if they also enjoy making handmade things: fellow makers have a sense of enhanced appreciation for the gift AND the time and effort that went into it.

Acts of service can be random acts of kindness, or they can be a specific response to an expressed need.

Quality time is a great one, especially in this age of Technology Overload. Making a point to spend time with someone during which you give them and the activity (whether you’re having a conversation, spending the day at an amusement park, cooking together, whatever) your full attention has bonuses attached to it: connection, strengthened relationships, memory creation, a recharged internal battery, and more.

Last but not least, physical touch is pretty awesome (unless you’re the type of person who doesn’t like to be touched, then it’s probably pretty bad: hopefully when you’re expressing your love loudly, you’ve previously considered whether the recipient is a fan of physical touch and if you don’t know, you’d certainly want to ask). I just returned from a weekend visiting my late BFF’s husband and two of their daughters and, ahead of the trip, I told the girls in our text thread that they’d better be ready for huge hugs because I was going to squeeze them until it became awkward. (Though we did hug for much longer than what is typical, it wasn’t awkward. So either we didn’t hug long enough OR we just all needed that comforting touch: probably both.)

If this isn’t part of your way of living, I encourage you to give it a shot. When we are openly loving towards others, there’s nothing to lose—and everything to gain.

*I only put “almost” up there because I don’t want to have an absolute “always” hanging out there in the wind and then someday, someone will say “You know, there was that time when I did something really cool and I heard from someone else how proud you were. I wish you would have told me directly.” Not that that would happen, but just in case it does, I’m covering my butt. And if that does happen/has happened, my deepest apologies to the person I neglected. My goodness. Who’s got two thumbs and got everyone else’s share of self-awareness back at the factory? THIS GIRL.

One of the features of Duolingo is the incentive to do enough lessons and earn enough “XP” points to keep yourself moving up the chain of ten leagues which are, from lowest to highest: Bronze, Silver, Gold, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald, Amethyst, Pearl, Obsidian, and Diamond.

With all of the free time we had in the lockdown stage of the pandemic, it wasn’t long before I blew through the first nine leagues and reached the Diamond League.

Then I stayed there, for six years.

I adore learning more and more about the German language. My progress was made clear when we visited Munich in October 2023, and I know that the next time we head over there (hopefully next year), I will have even better conversations with the locals. Those lessons have been valuable.

But the longer I was in the Diamond League, the more it became a compulsion to do enough lessons every day to stay there. If I checked in on my standing on a Saturday and I was in (or near) the Demotion Zone (if you know, you know), I would make sure to do enough lessons to get back up towards the top before Sunday evening, which is when the weekly competition ends and everyone either gets promoted, demoted, or stays in their current league.

A little more than a year ago, I actually reached the end of the German lessons on Duolingo. I wasn’t keeping an eye on my course progress so I wasn’t expecting it at all, but one day I completed a unit and the next day when I opened the app I was greeted by a circular display of review lessons (eight of them, I think). Duolingo was in the process of adding higher learning levels, but until then I’d have to entertain myself in the review loop.

So I did, because the ability to earn points was still there and I didn’t want to leave the Diamond League and, truly, reviewing is fine. FINE!

This whole episode makes me chuckle because it reminds me of my therapist telling me at one of my earlier sessions, “I’m just not sure if a person like you (meaning, someone who has perfectionist and compulsive tendencies) should really be wearing an Apple Watch.” This comment came after a discussion about how I loved having a daily goal of closing my fitness rings (Move, Exercise, and Stand), and how I would do some walking laps through the rooms of my house at night if my rings hadn’t yet closed.

Eventually, I stopped doing that. I have turned into the kind of person who only mildly cares about ring closure as it relates to my healthy habits. I’ve gotten good at giving myself a break in that category.

But with Duolingo, I found myself hanging onto the Diamond League for dear life. I reviewed the heck out of old German lessons for a whole year. I had so many conversations with Lilly, the sarcastic teenager character with purple hair, that I started sassing her back and also calling her out on her bullshit. Once she said something about eating meat and I was all, “WAIT A HOT SECOND, LILLY. YOU ARE A VEGETARIAN.”

Life got really busy this spring: there was a seven-week period during which I was traveling on most of the weekends, catching up with my weekend chores during the week while working, working out, and planning the baby shower for our son and daughter-in-law. Staying in the Diamond League was starting to get more and more difficult and, finally, on baby shower weekend I let it go.

I became an Obsidian League member for the first time in six years. And do you know what? It didn’t bother me. Actually, I felt immense relief.

But wait, there’s more: while I told myself (and my Instagram followers, via a story) that I’d be back up on top the following week, I was not. And I wasn’t the week after, either.

In fact, as of this past Sunday I’m now a proud member of the Pearl League.

While Duolingo wants me to spend as much time as possible on the app (we do have the ad-free version, thank goodness), I don’t think I’m interested in dropping other things in my life anymore just to stay on top of a competition that I don’t need to care about.

I realized that what I truly appreciate about Duolingo is the ability to practice a language I love, not a competition that doesn’t matter. The only person I’m really ever interested in competing with is myself anyway, and as I have released the stress of making myself do The Most for no good reason, I know that I have gained time, brain space, and peace of mind where Duolingo is concerned…while losing nothing.

In the book she writes about the differences between happiness and joy, makes suggestions on how to create practices that bring joy, and poses lots of questions for the reader, Her words left me with a lot to think about, which I love.

In one chapter, she asked “strangers on the internet what they ached for.” Answers included “One more moment with my friend” (so relatable!), “Being pain-free for a day,” and “A cure for regret.”

I decided to make my own list of things, from silly to serious, in no particular order and definitely not complete:

1. McDonald’s French fries that I could eat daily without detriment to my health

2. More hours in the day

3. More sleep at night

4. For both of my grown kids and their spouses to live locally, or at least within an hour or two

5. Competent and caring government officials at every level

6. Freedom and equity for all

7. More money to use on European travel

8. Regular European travel

9. The ability to truly relax more quickly, when I have the opportunity

10. More time with lost loved ones

11. More time with friends

12. Adele, touring again

What would be on your list?

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