I Love America–The Band

I do love America…but I’d never seen them in concert. I also love Bread, but I missed the boat on that band…two key members died of cancer shortly after they did their 25 year reunion tour in 1997. As you know, I’m 50…so I was just a child, between 6 and 7, when America hit the airwaves, three American boys with British moms in England…they named themselves America so no one would think a bunch of British kids were pretending to American musical roots. I call their music, and that of Bread and CS&N (or CSNY), American Folk Rock. I love it. I love the stories, the melodies, and the sweet, melodic rock. I love America.

Detroit puts on a series of riverfront rock concerts each summer. Last year, I learned about these concerts at the end of summer with the last of the concerts, America. I wanted to go, but had no one to go with. I thought of taking my kids, but was still intimidated with the endeavor…I have a night-vision problem and when you combine that with taking an unfamiliar path to an unfamiliar place…well, I chickened out. That night there was a huge thunderstorm, and the next day I learned that the concert had been canceled. At least, I thought, I didn’t miss anything.

This year, I looked over the summer concert schedule, but with my younger daughter’s travel basketball and travel softball schedule, I would certainly miss most of the concerts. Additionally, I hadn’t addressed my concerns with driving downtown in the dark by myself. I semi-resigned myself to not going. Then one day, I mentioned it to a friend of mine and she told me she was all in! Not only that, but she offered to drive.

Suddenly, going to the America concert was a reality. In the end, three of us went. Although the concert was free, a restaurant on the riverfront offered an inexpensive buffet with “VIP” seating. We were too late to get reservations, but we did get reservations at the same restaurant “on the patio”. This turned out to be temporary sidewalk seating. They were pleased to let us sit there for hours so that we could enjoy the show.

I learned a lot, to be utilized next summer. Eating on the patio was pleasant, but quite expensive. Next year, we’ll get the buffet tickets (although they are inside). We had access to the restaurant’s restroom…highly desirable compared to the port-a-john alternative. The VIP seats that went with the buffet appeared to be right next to the stage. Truly VIP seats! We also discovered the best parking…validated by the restaurant for a 40% discount and just two quick turns from the highway home.

The concert? It was ideal. America has been playing a hundred concerts a year for 44 years…talk about knowing your stuff! They’ve long passed Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000 hours to mastery. I taped Ventura Highway on my cell phone. The video portion was lackluster, but the audio is great. Two days later, when I woke up after my younger daughter had gone to the One Direction concert with her dad, we traded recordings. She played a selection which featured a lot of screaming girls with a song in the background. I played her my recording and she marveled that it sounded like I was playing the radio.

The best part of the concert was staying until the last encore was over…a luxury I’ve been denied for decades. So, let me leave you with that song, A Horse With No Name. It tossed me back to my youth…ROCK ON!

Find the Joy in the Journey…A journey that never ends!

The Great Flood

Under the best circumstances, I would have been home, high and dry, in no time at all. Instead, it took me over two hours. All day long, the local news app on my iPhone notified me of flood warnings. Everytime I looked outside, the sky was grey but there was no visible rain. Apparently it rained steadily all day long, just not big rain and big wind that would have made it obvious through the plate glass of my office building, just an unrelentingly soft, summer rain. I gave it not a second thought.

Close to the end of the day, a coworker commented that she’d learned her lesson the last time it had rained and she’d gotten stranded on the Southfield Freeway. The Southfield is an outdated freeway which runs below grade with service drives on either side at street level. Even a minor fender-bender creates terrible back-ups. I noted, perhaps a bit smugly, that I had multiple ways home without driving through low-lying areas, or getting onto the Southfield.

My older daughter (who has been rear-ended twice in the last few years) and I had an appointment with the chiropractor, so I texted my daughter to confirm. Turned out that she didn’t want to go. If she had, I’d have started off taking those side streets home to pick her up. Instead, I got on the Southfield…just for two exits to a main East/West road. I passed the first exit, the one I would take if I were driving home. Soon after, I saw the error of my ways. I sat on the highway for over an hour and a half. Somewhere along the way, I called my chiropractor and canceled my appointment.

At some point a police car cut down the shoulder ahead of all of us. Later, a few cars got on the shoulder and cut ahead. Twenty minutes later, a few cars came back on the shoulder, driving the wrong way back towards the on-ramp. A few more got on the shoulder going forward…later they all came back on the shoulder. I was baffled.

As time went on, more and more cars turned around and went back down the shoulder. Eventually I saw that this was directed by the police. This one policewoman came past several times, soaked to the skin. I did wonder why her car didn’t include a rain poncho for such emergencies, but apparently it didn’t and she was completely soaked. Later a man in a polo shirt with a flashlight started helping out. It turned out that he was also a police officer. They had to turn around three lanes of rush-hour traffic into one shoulder lane. I took this photo of the second police officer next to water gushing out of the freeway…apparently a water main break under the highway.image

So, finally released, I turned around and drove back up the shoulder the wrong way. When I got to the service drive, I did a u-turn and was on my way. I got home about 15 minutes later, passing very slowly through several areas of deep water over the road. In the meanwhile I’d called my older daughter and asked her to start dinner. It wasn’t until I arrived home that I learned that she’d gone out. She was at a friend’s house in a neighboring community. My city had dug up our roads several years ago and laid in new storm sewer lines…her friend’s city had not and the water rose over the curbs, across the lawns, and into the basements of the houses.

Eventually my daughter, who’d had the foresight to bring her Hunter boots, donned them and picked up her girlfriend on her back and waded through the flood to her friend’s van. They drove slowly through the flood to our house to spend the night.

It wasn’t until I was home that I learned of the magnitude of the flooding. This is the worst flooding in Detroit in recent history…there was a few hundredth of an inch more of rain in one day than in 1925, but the modern freeway system impedes the re-adsorption of the rain to a large enough extent to make this flooding far worse. I got a text from my boss that, just an hour after leaving the office, the first floor of our office flooded and I should work from home today. And so I did.

Find the Joy in the Journey…and the blessings of a great work-family that steps up to unusual challenges.

Children and Neverland

By day four of basketball nationals, I was ready to go home. I’d managed only one, short, run and that after a lot of falderal. My daughter’s team had won the first game in the first two days and followed that with losses. The third day, they lost both games. They were set up to play in the actual playoffs in one of the first games at 9 a.m. this morning. I was happy about that as it meant that we could probably head home early. I didn’t mean to jinx things, I was just being realistic.

As it turned out, they played a really aggressive team and ended up tied. Overtime was a tight 2-minutes of very suspenseful playing and my daughter’s team lost by a single point in the last few seconds. I was sorry that the girls lost, but felt very good about how well they’d played. I couldn’t help but secretly relax given that my daughter was now done with summer softball and also, finally, done with basketball. I tried not to think of the fact that her high school sports career would be ramping up imminently.

With a small break and time to think while driving home, I dreamt of time that I could spend independently. I’m a mom. I’m a single mom…free time is an oxymoron. I have none. Still…what might this mean to me. What it ultimately meant to me was driving up to the state college with my son where he’s had an apartment for the last year. So, as I drove home, I knew that not only this Saturday was spoken for by my younger daughter, but that Sunday was spoken for by my son. Then, back to work on Monday.

Every stage of life is transitory. What does that mean for the relationships we have with our kids? I’m in a weird place with my son, where he is now a boomerang kid without the college degree. We’ve agreed that he’ll take a semester off and work, so that he can save up money for school and take care of some personal business at home before venturing off to a more independent life once again. This is not perfect and I get flack from some for not taking a harder line, but I know my kid. I know he needs a few months under my wing to heal, to get to a steady place in his life, and to plan for the future.

My older daughter, by dint of personality and circumstances has become very independent before she’s really ready to want that. She told me recently that she hadn’t wanted to turn 18. Well, she had almost a semester of college, living far from home, before hitting that milestone. I know she doesn’t want to shoulder the mantle of adulthood so soon, but on the other hand, she’s handling it with grit, determination, and a whole lot more grace than I did at that age.

My younger daughter has also taken on a more Peter Pan view of the world since her older siblings left for college. She used to want to do everything that they were doing even though they were five and seven years ahead of her in school. Now, she is happy to live in the moment, to finish middle school and head to high school. She wants those four years of high school to be her life, in the here and now…college and independent living are off on the horizon, so far away that it is a distraction to even think about it now.

So, I have a few more years…maybe eight or ten given the age of my youngest, to be a major presence in my children’s lives. I will relish that even as I try to spread my wings a bit wider and try to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

Find the Joy in the Journey…it is happening in the here and now.

 

 

Running the Trails–Or At Least Trying To!

After my daughter and I finally made it to the AYBT Basketball Nationals, we had to wait an additional 24 hours for the first game. Last night her team played and won at 7 p.m. and then lost their 9 p.m. game. With a whole day off until the second evening’s games, I planned to fit in a run, but I never got to it. I didn’t want to run on the treadmill, and it looked on the map like there were trails that came pretty close to the hotel. I asked at the front desk and learned that I’d have to drive to a nearby trailhead. Meanwhile, some of the girls and moms wanted to go shopping. I’m not much of a shopper, but I looked forward to the company.

Between meals, shopping, and quite a bit of reading, I never got in a run and suddenly it was time for the games; another win followed by a loss. So, this morning I took a different tact. As soon as I got up, I put on my running clothes. I went to the lobby for the breakfast buffet and felt a bit odd about the way I was dressed…but then at least I was wearing clothes…some people actually eat their breakfast in their pajamas…in public! Of course, when I ran into other parents, I would mention that I was going on a run on the nearby trails. This forced me to actually follow through.

I got into the car with a good idea of where I was going only to find that I was off in the wrong direction. I’m pretty good at reading maps and getting oriented, but I had misread the map. In my defense, it was a rather sketchy map, with only the main streets showing. Eventually, I plugged the name of the trailhead into my map app, but it couldn’t find it so I tried the closest major intersection. Finally, I found my way.

At the trail head, my plan was to lock my keys in my new car and memorize the external keypad to get back  in. I sat there memorizing and decided I needed a back-up plan, so I wrote the code on my hand. That didn’t seem good enough, maybe I’d sweat it off, so I opened up my iPod Touch Notes app and put it in there too. Now I was ready. I got out of the car and locked the door. I tried the keypad and sure enough it worked. Next I put my purse in the car and re-locked it and took a step away. Suddenly I wondered if I could still unlock the car simply by touching the driver door handle. Turns out that I could. So, this great feature, especially great for athletes who don’t want to run or swim with car keys, was no good on a car with push-button start.

I got my keys out of my purse and re-locked the car. Looking around, I couldn’t figure out which way to go, so I looked at the map posted at the trail head. This map, too, seemed to make little sense and seemed to indicate a direction that had me crossing a busy road with no marked intersection. In the end, I just explored and ran down the paved path. It only went about a hundred yards before it took me through a gate and made a hairpin turn on to a gravel track. I followed the gravel, and about a half-mile in, found myself at a maintenance barn and a gravel parking lot. The trail itself became dirt and grass. I kept going, but soon the track turned into a rutted mess and I was concerned about turning an ankle. I turned around and ran back to the car. I figure I ran about two miles. It didn’t seem worth it.

Sometimes, you just have to go through all the obstacles and still not achieve your immediate goal. Even so, I learned a few things and I did get some exercise.

Find the Joy in the Journey…even when it is circuitous and seems pointless!

 

 

 

Braces Off!

There’s little more exciting in a teen’s life than getting their braces removed, or as the orthodontist calls it, debanding. My younger daughter’s appointment was at 7:30 this morning and originally I planned to take her before work. Then I learned that we have to be in Indiana tonight by 6:30 so that her team can register for the AYBT Nationals. That meant leaving work around 3 p.m. Suddenly my workday had contracted to just five hours, so I decided to take another vacation day. Four days off for a basketball championship…the things we do for our kids!

It turned out to be a good thing that I took the day off because we were up early and busy until late at night. First things first, we headed for the orthodontist. Originally, the orthodontist’s office was only a few miles from home. Due to the multiple polar vortices this past winter, the office suffered structural damage that meant that every time it rained, the office flooded. Fortunately, the office was part of a network of orthodontists and an alternative location was secured. Unfortunately, this was 20 miles away and the highway between here and there  has been shut down for resurfacing.

The debanding, molding of her mouth, and creation of her retainers went smoothly. Soon I was gazing upon my lovely daughter and her newly dazzling smile.  After making a follow-up appointment, we headed for a car wash. I’d thrown the floor mats into the washer a few days prior, then let them air-dry. They came out like new. Now it was time to clean up the rest of the car to turn it in and pick up my new car. I’m having some buyers remorse, but it’s too late to change. I love my little, stick-shift car with manual locks and windows, but wanted a bigger car for the inevitable carpool for high school.

At the garage, I realized that just the night before I’d let my older daughter drive my car and she had not given me the key back. Dang. I had to go home for it. Upon return, I was told I shouldn’t have bothered…my key was only a $5 roadblock. I got my new car and it is replete with features, including push-button start. Now those key fobs are probably worth $100!

I contemplated going for a run, but I had too much to do before we left, including packing. We barely managed to get out on the road by 3:10. We got to Fort Wayne just in time. We checked into our hotel and then drove over to the Spiece Fieldhouse to check in. The truly frustrating thing was that the girls’ first game wasn’t until 7 p.m. the next night! Another vacation day wasted.

With the unusual prospect of free time stretching ahead of me, I reveled in having time to read. Time to read?  Priceless!  First on my list was The Dog Stars by Peter Heller. I tore through it and loved it. It is a dystopian novel, but unlike my recent dystopian reads, this was an adult novel versus a young adult novel. Next up, I started What the Dog Saw by Malcolm Gladwell. I’m enjoying it and looking forward to another non-fiction book, The Arsenal of Democracy by A. J. Baime about Detroit’s role in the outcome of WWII.

I find myself in a world where I can’t figure out a daily or even weekly balance…but maybe over all, it’s all copacetic! These days, I strive for a balanced life but settle for the big picture…Some weeks I run. Others, I read. Others, I write. At the end of the day, I just try to smile! Perhaps it is time to find a way, whether putting in new life braces or taking off old ones, of getting a better balance in my life day to day.

Find the Joy in the Journey…Time to come up with a better plan!

 

 

Forgetting the Jordans

Today was the last day of regular season AYBT basketball for my younger daughter. It was my turn to drive my daughter and two of her teammates. I arrived as planned at 8:00 to pick up the first girl and as planned at 8:10 for the second girl. We headed off for the tournament with a bit of time to spare. That turned out to be a good thing because when we got closer to the venue, there were road closures that cut us off and we had to find our way around. Even so, we rolled in at exactly 9 a.m. As we gathered our things to get out of the car my daughter looked around in bewilderment for the bag where she keeps her basketball shoes.

The shoes were an early birthday gift, Jordans. They were her pride and joy. When we bought them, the store had some on sale for $49 and I was dreaming of a good deal. I pointed them out to my daughter, but she dismissed them immediately because they weren’t in any color she wanted. Instead, she chose another pair at full price. I smiled and wished her a happy birthday as I paid for them. She’d been wearing them all season and at least she hadn’t outgrown them or lost them…she’d just left them at home. She asked if we could go back and get them, but that would have taken an hour and a half and her first game was in an hour. She was wearing a cheap pair of gym shoes, not particularly suitable for playing three forty-minute games, but they’d have to do.

We walked into the school and found ourselves to be the first there for the 10 a.m. game. There wasn’t time to go home for the shoes, but maybe I could buy her a cheap pair before game time. I pulled out my phone and looked up sporting goods stores. There was one only 5 miles away, so I offered to take my daughter to see if we could get her another pair of shoes. Her two friends wanted to come along, so we set off. As we arrived around 9:20 it dawned on me that the store wasn’t likely to be open so early on a Sunday…but they were.

imageMiraculously, we found a pair of men’s basketball shoes in her size on clearance for $20. With a sigh of relief, I bought the shoes and we headed back to the school. By that time, the coach was texting the girls to find out when they would arrive and I realized, belatedly, that I’d taken quite a risk. If we’d returned after 10, our team would have been down to only 4 players for the first game! The shoes are bright white, totally uncool. I’m hoping her feet are done growing and now she has a “good” pair and a back-up pair that we can keep in the trunk of the car.

This crazy summer season of summer-league softball and AYBT basketball is almost over. My daughter’s team won the softball championship on Friday and all the regular basketball tournaments are over. Next up, a trip to Indiana for the AYBT Nationals!

Find the Joy in the Journey…the right shoes, like the right tools, make the job easier!

To Each Their Own Celebration–My Son Turns 21

It seems that the older I get, the more milestones there are to measure. As a child the milestones were momentous to me, but so small in the grand order of things. Walking up the street to a friend’s house, riding a bike without training wheels, going off on the big bus to Kindergarten, moving across town and going to first grade with all new classmates, going to middle school where both elementary schools combined…these were the milestones of my early childhood. After that came milestones of young adulthood: getting my braces off, getting contact lenses, starting high school, that first kiss, applying for college, and ultimately leaving home.

I’ve gone through many adult milestones too, including college graduation,  marriage, graduate school, first job, home ownership, parenthood, and even divorce. But as a mom, I find it sometimes amazing and sometimes terribly bitter-sweet to witness the milestones of my own children. They are born and then they rocket towards adulthood at an ever increasing pace. As a mom, I tried to both document their growth and live in the moment. Apparently I did more of the latter than the former, so there is little physical evidence to share. What there is, lies in my heart.

Today is my oldest child’s 21st birthday, and a  reminder to me about how each of us celebrates in their own way. He wanted to be home for his birthday and he wanted to go out to eat. Given that my younger daughter had a softball playoff game until after 8, dinner would be quite late. While my older daughter and I were at work, my younger daughter baked a cake. It’s now her signature dish, a Guinness cake. She’s made several and this took the last can from the pack I bought at the beginning of the year when she started making them. Her brother had apparently had the penultimate one on the ultimate evening of being technically too young to drink it.

At the restaurant, the waiter asked us what we’d all like to drink and he eschewed having a beer because that was what was expected and he’s all about being an individual who decides for himself whether it matters or not if he has a beer on his birthday and then says no to spite what was expected. Other aspects of a typical birthday celebration were too ingrained in tradition. The cake was duly adorned with a “2” and a “1” candles and lit. We sang him the Birthday Song, and he made a wish and blew out the candles. He happily ate cake and opened presents to round out the event.

More milestones await, as early as next week when my younger daughter gets her braces off.

Find the Joy in the Journey…and the Joy in seeing your children grow up to the beat of their own drum!

 

 

My First Book Club

You would think, given my lifelong love of books, that I would be the veteran of many a book club by now, but I’m not. Every time I watch The Jane Austin Book Club, I want to start one, but I never have enough bandwidth to start yet another new thing in my life. Then one day, a like-minded colleague came to work brimming about a book club she’d attended the night before.

It turned out to be a book club for women focused on non-fiction. I was hooked! They only meet quarterly and she gave me the name of the next selection, Just Like Us by Helen Thorpe and I promptly ordered it. It ended up taking me until yesterday to finish, partly due to being over-committed to other endeavors, and partly due to it being a very fascinating story told in a meticulously journalistic manner.

So, after work, I headed to a nearby city to attend the meeting. Upon arriving, I was greeted warmly and, donning my name tag, I gathered up some refreshments and found a seat. We were in a conference room of a bank. The room was filled with about 30 professional women of mostly my own age or older. There was one woman in her thirties, and one who looked like late teens or early twenties (who turned out to be the daughter of a founding member).

Also in attendance were three immigration lawyers and a non-citizen law clerk. These four were invited to the discussion to bring some much needed expertise to the topic of the book. The book follows four Mexican American girls in Denver from high school through college, two of them undocumented. The events unfold against a backdrop of hot debate on immigration reform prompted, in part, by the murder of a local police officer by an undocumented Mexican man.

Now, I’m not sure how a typical book club goes, but this meeting ended up as mostly a Q&A of the experts about all sorts of immigration issues, some drawn from the book, but many not. Here in Detroit, we have similar issues. I’ve been drawn, especially, to the plight of children, whether documented or not. I once had the privilege of hearing a first-hand account by a girl, documented, whose family was deported when she was seventeen and how and why she forced her family to leave her behind.

Meanwhile, my colleague was running late and arrived minutes after the bank guard locked up and went home. She did text me, but in the heat of the discussion I didn’t hear the soft tone alerting me to a text. We connected the next day and I filled her in on the event. Just about everyone there knew her personally, she’s that kind of person, a maven, bringing diverse people together who have a common bond.

I’m already excited to attend the next meeting, which won’t be until October. We voted for our next book and it is Give and Take by Adam Grant. Meeting quarterly with a new group of women may not meet my current needs to meet just these sort of women, but meet them I will and I hope some friendships ensue for the next phase of my life.

Find the Joy in the Journey…find it in every facet of your life!

Motivating Myself To De-Clutter

While I didn’t actually de-clutter my entire house while I was off of work last week, and I didn’t even completely de-clutter the main living areas, I did manage to make a dent in it…all on Sunday night. Yes, I waited all week doing nothing, then rushed to sort, throw out, and put away as much as possible. Why the last minute full-press? I’d bought an Angie’s List Big Deal with my preferred cleaning company and they were coming Monday morning. What else?

Sometimes (all the time?) I have to put myself on the spot to get anything done. I sign up for races so that I’ll keep running and I keep buying those big deals so that I’ll continue to work on de-cluttering my house. It’s a sneaky technique, but it does work. I got up this morning and continued my cleaning blitz so that the cleaning people could actually get a vacuum across the rug and a dust cloth across the horizontal surfaces.

The ultimate goal with the house is to be so organized that I don’t need a cleaning company at all. I’ll be all FlyLady and manage it all by myself due to being so organized, putting things away as soon as I’m finished with them.

The other extreme would be that I am organized and also have a weekly cleaning service…unfortunately, my budget just doesn’t allow this. Therefore, I look through Groupon, Angie’s List, Living Social, and Deal Chicken for coupons for my favorite house cleaning company. They aren’t available too often, but to me they are gold!

So, after frantically throwing papers in boxes and creating all new, harder to decipher piles, I left for work. I had earlier done a lot of sorting, so there were fewer papers to shove in corners, but none-the-less, this was not ideal. All day, I looked forward to walking in to my newly-cleaned home.

If it weren’t for my children, it would have been perfect. Even so it was almost-perfect. There were just a few dirty dishes scattered about. Otherwise, things were clean, dust-free, and all the beds had clean sheets. Heaven!

My long term goal, however,  is not just a clean house, but one free of clutter, not just on the surface, but throughout. I have a very long way to go, no matter how hard I work at it. It can be quite discouraging. I know that up in my attic I have my entire LP collection. I don’t know where it is and I fret that it is destroyed by heat. I know that in a small closet in the basement I have all my financial records for when I had to move out of my house for the renovations. Junk indeed, but I have to go through it before I can junk it.

I also know, that somewhere in the bowels of my Michigan basement, are my stability ball, my weight bench, and all of my barbells. It is a mission worth signing up for to get my fitness life in order. Aha, I’ve found a new goal, easy to fulfill, that will push me forward on my bigger de-cluttering goal! That’s how I roll, all multi-tasking mania!

Find the Joy in the Journey…Silver linings are there for the taking!

2048: It’s Just A Number…Or Is It?

I started the week as just a normal human being. I arrived for the weekend at my sister’s with my girls in tow and ready to celebrate a bridal shower. All went off as planned, but in the meanwhile, I was introduced to an addictive gaming app.

Hey, do you know 2048? No, I don’t. Well, just sign up for free and start playing. We all love this game, and we all hate it. It’s as addictive as crack-cocaine and we have deleted it as often as we’ve downloaded it. Oh, really! And my genius, programming nephew conquered it immediately? Like a Rubick’s cube? I see…I’ve never mastered the Rubick’s cube, but I know there is a formulaic answer….one which I refuse to look up so that I can cheat.

I was up for the challenge and soon had the game downloaded onto my iPhone.  In this game, you start with a couple of two’s. If you click them together you get a four. And so it goes, as you click the tiles together you form higher and higher numbers. The goal is to get a tile denominated as a 2048. It is frustratingly difficult to get the necessary numbers next to one another and keep building up to higher and higher tiles.

Soon enough, I had downloaded the app and given it a try. Dang, I didn’t get very far. I tried again. And again, and again. The weekend ended and I returned home with only a meager high-score in the 7000’s. Throughout my week off of work, I tried it over and over again, and then one day it clicked.

I rhythmically bashed those tiles together in a sort of trance, not even noting the pattern I was making, just knowing that I was keeping the higher numbers along the top and repetitively building up the numbers from the bottom. I stopped trying to think through the process and instead went with the flow as I rhythmically built up my numbers.image

Time was going by without my noticing it…what seemed a mere few minutes turned out to be hours. Oh, but in the end it was worth it, wasn’t it? I got that elusive tile only to learn that I could keep going! I wondered if I could get to 4096! I didn’t…but I mastered 2048 and could do it again. I decided to hang up my spurs and move on to greener pastures.

There is something addictive about games, so I limit myself to a few. I play Scramble With Friends with just my sister. I play Words With Friends with several Friends. I like that Words doesn’t have the pressure of being timed, so I play more of those games and can do so more at my leisure. The only other game I play is Spider Solitaire…ironic given my phobia of spiders and having to look at them on the backs of the cards…it makes me feel like I’m conquering something, anyway.

So, 2048 is gone. I achieved my goal and moved on. I guess I wasted some of my vacation time, but it did help me to decompress, and maybe that’s just what I needed.

Find the Joy in the Journey…sometimes it’s okay to take a detour!