Oh, the perils of parking lots

        One of the hindrances of growing older is not being able to find your car in the parking lot. When I noticed an older woman clearly searching for her vehicle in a crowded lot, I kindly offered to help. She responded by telling me she could find her car on her own. 

A more uplifting story about losing one's car comes from a couple of my older friends who sometimes drive an old beat-up blue Impala, and at other times, a slightly newer and spiffier red Caddy. On one of their weekday shopping excursions, they decided to drive their Sunday car, the Caddy, instead of the beat-up relic. 

Short in stature; tall in brilliance

    Mrs. Loggins taught English at a high school in rural North Carolina where I grew up. If she had stood on her tiptoes, she might have barely stretched past the five-feet mark on a door jamb. She was pleasingly plump and wore her dark hair in a cute pixie cut. As one of the younger teachers, she connected well with 16-year-olds. I had the luck and privilege of being one of her tenth-grade students.