Driving the train

My mother doesn’t fly.  Never has, never will. She’s afraid of heights at every level. Airplanes, bridges, ladders–doesn’t make a difference to her–they’re all the same and she can’t do ’em.

That doesn’t mean she hasn’t gotten around (well, she’s 92 now, so her getting around days are kind of removed) but she’s managed to travel all over North America.

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Ten things to be grateful for…..

river 1
A river running through the neighbourhood…..

This week on Facebook, a post came across my feed on Halloween; incidentally, I did not have any trick-or-treaters at my apartment, which was good, because I had no candy. I think children live in building as I have seen tiny bikes in the garage, but I can’t swear to it.  Maybe they belong to a grown up who just likes tiny bikes. Or a tiny grownup.

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