Showing posts from January, 2019


What really makes one year more memorable than the past? Transitions, I think. I remember the summer of 1964 as the year I lost two pair of flip flops in the molten tar that crisscrossed the residential streets in our neighborhood, requiring that I weave barefoot between cool grassy spots and searing sidewalks before making it home to douse my poor feet under the water hydrant. It's also the year I learned to ride a bicycle, opening the world to adventures. When I resigned my position as vice-president with a large Cincinnati firm in 2007 and moved to NW Arkansas, I fully intended to retire. No more meetings. No more cell phones. No more stress. The first month, I busied myself unpacking, finding the grocery store, and finding myself in the community. Interestingly enough, I found that I didn't have a place in this community. Our children were grown and gone with families of their own, and so no reason to introduce myself to a new set of teachers or buy school supplies an