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For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a storyteller — inking my life onto the pages of the dozens of journals that now fill an entire shelf in my closet. Let’s face it, experience makes good copy. I wrote about growing up on a ranch in Texas and then a farm in Pennsylvania. My wild teenage years with my equally wild friends — it’s a wonder we survived — falling in love with my sweetheart, becoming pregnant and married at nineteen (yes, in that order). And then all the year

There’s an old saying that opportunity is often missed because it comes disguised in overalls and looks like hard work. If that’s true, then I must have been born wearing overalls. My life isn't flashy, but at 64, I get to wake up in the morning, enjoy a slice of raspberry bread pudding, sip hot coffee, and lose myself in a good book. I can go for a long walk alone, meet friends for lunch, or create something wild and wonderful with the slow stroke of a brush and some fresh p

It's my favorite! Shorts and painted toe nails. Bike rides and beach reads. Life slows, yet somehow feels fuller. The early sunrise and late sunsets makes living long and easy. This summer marks my second year of retirement. Like all good things, it goes fast - too fast. And, per usual Lyn, I have a long list of what I want to do with these short months of high skies and temperatures. Time with family, a week at the beach, a girls trip, time to make memories with friends and

I’ve been feeling unusually nostalgic this year. Maybe it’s because sixty‑five is standing on my doorstep, and all the stereotypes that trail behind it — Social Security, “old age,” the whispered expectations of physical and mental decline — suddenly feel closer than they ever have. I’ve never fully reconciled my age with the face in the mirror or the body that feels both familiar and rebelliously foreign. We grow up believing we’ll never truly grow old, and then one day the