Hmmmm, I am sensing a trend here on my blogs... Are you happy in your career? If not, maybe you should consider a change. My current path happened late in life, in my late 40's to be precise. Once I chose a new career, I haven't stopped, or looked back.   

I have been putting off upgrading my license to the Enhanced version.  I just could not bring myself to spend an entire  day at DMV to get it done.    

I love to read.  Because I read so much in my professional life, I limit my recreational reading to novels and science fiction. When I am reading recreationally, I generally choose books that would be considered “light reading.”  

Not a football reference nor to the number of homers Pete Alonso slugged in his rookie year with the Mets but to the number of years elapsed between the first time I saw Neil Young in concert and the show I took daughter Marisa to last night at Jones Beach.  Yesterday, I passed 30 days following my hip replacement surgery so I found it particularly invigorating to get out and about in that fashion.  Last weekend at Citi Field for Nolan McLean's debut, I used the walker; yesterday a cane so some improvement.

A library book just made the longest trip back to the San Antonio Public Library, 82 years overdue. The book, Your Child, His Family, and Friends by Frances Bruce Strain, was checked out in July 1943 and only returned this past June by a man in Oregon.Inside was a note:“I hope there is no late fee for it because Grandma won’t be able to pay for it anymore.” 

My granddaughter Maggie recently celebrated her birthday and, as she was born in the year 2000, it got me thinking. Inasmuch as the 21st century commenced on January 1, 2001, she, and all others born in the year 2000, are uniquely situated to become Tricentenarians!

We are back for a week on Martha's Vineyard....and, as I was thinking about my blog for this week, I realized that i was re-composing a blog previously written. So here is my blog from about the same time last year:

After being in a relationship for a long, very long, time, sometimes the small things speak louder than the large ones.  You know what I’m talking about.  Those small acts of kindness and caring that feel as special as two dozen roses felt early on.