Growing up in what is now a bursting-at-the-seams Chicago suburb, I lived next door to a cottage without indoor plumbing.
The cottage had been the goat shed of the homestead in our rural area and, as children, we were fascinated by its primitive plumbing.
Instead of being angry and frustrated that the COVID world is once again closing in on us, I’m focusing on those months when I wasn’t worried every time I coughed.
I am one of the 70% of Americans who got vaccinated and felt relief, along with a handful of uncomfortable side effects in the immediate aftermath.
Once in a while, I remember to play.
What came so naturally to us as children is less obvious to our aging adult bodies and sensibilities. We have been conditioned to focus on dignity, task completion, responsibility and worrying what people will think about us.
There are people in this world – I am not one of them – who have that rare ability to make other people happy just by their nature.
That’s not to say that the rest of us don’t bring joy, comfort and smiles to others. But it’s not our primary gift. We have others to cultivate in order to leave our mark on the world.
It seems several lifetimes have passed since I sat in the grass on the side of a hill in a small community outside Rockford, Illinois, watching fireworks with my boyfriend.
I was 17, about to head off to college and had no idea what the next decades would bring.
When we first moved to the area in the mid-1990s, the Navarre Beach Bridge was still a toll.
Somehow, though, I have only positive memories of crossing that bridge despite the fact that I had to rummage through the change dish in my car.
For the last nine months, I’ve been immersed in the worlds of Navarre and Santa Rosa County.
It’s been fascinating and challenging to understand the smaller community of the area stretched along U.S. Highway 98 and the county, which includes everything from high-rise condominiums to agriculture.
I grew up with snow and ice in the winter, the smell of burning leaves in the fall and tulips popping up in strange places in the spring, along with a sea of mud.
The summers in Illinois were warm enough for swimming and boating, as long as you chose the right day of the year and the right time of the day.
