thanks deb. Everything is relative--so to speak. I am rounding out my second month of a wicked resp illness, so it tempers things a bit. When I was writing this and thinking about the sturdiness of memoir, it occurred to me that when I was younger, I didn't have a fucking clue what was ahead. Not a clue. Makes me humble and scared.

Was that me?

From reading of your many journeys, I suspect you know what I mean. Its simplistic, but so deeply, deeply true. I often feel like a stranger wears my clothes. Hope all is well with you. I feel so proud of Parasol. fondly mmm