When you come to a fork in the road...take it!

(Yogi Berra had the right idea.)

I love to write and love to reminisce about bygone times.
I love to remember the people I've known 
who have made a difference in the " me"  I've become 
at the "ripe old age" of 83.
I used to think 83 was really, really old. 

It isn't.

 Actually, I once believed that 50 was old.
 As I recall,  50 was old 
when my grandmothers were alive.

 I remember the day I turned thirty.
  I was devastated.  Life was over. 
 I wasn't in my twenties any more.
 Looking forward, there was nothing left for me
but dreary, boring days and years of waiting to get "old."
There were no college years for me.
 When I need to check off my level of education on an application, 
the box for me to check must be
 "graduated high-school".

 My Dad always commented, " Some folks attended college
 and still don't have enough sense to come in out of the rain."

I feel good about his comment 
 because I've always arranged to carry my umbrella on a cloudy day.

 That reminds me, 
a week or so ago I purchased a new umbrella.
 It was very easy to put it up,
 but for the life of me I couldn't figure out
 how to put it down when I got inside the building. 
However, with a great deal of concentration, 
 I finally returned it to its original closed position 
by pushing the little "down" arrow
 right underneath the "up" arrow.

 Who says a high school education isn't worth much?

I grew up in a small northern town 
in the lower peninsula of Michigan.
 Our family moved to another town, 30 miles away, when I was 17 .
 I've lived there ever since. 

One could hardly think of me as a world traveler,
 but I've observed much about life 
from the shores of Michigan's largest inland lake. 
 Houghton Lake is the place I've called home for 66 years. 

I am one fortunate Michigander.
 I became a bride in 1955.
The marriage continued for 62 years.

My husband and I have had three sons.

 The oldest is now 62 and the youngest 56.
 It difficult to imagine someone as young as I am, 
having sons of that advanced age.
  Life is like a dream.
 Facts are not always as they seem.

 I heard someone make a statement on television just the other day about "alternative facts". 
(Perhaps I should research some of those.)



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