Playing at Sunrise Assisted Living at River and 1st Avenue

i lost my mind in Iceland - went happily crazy and just recovered. It was time. I turned 50 two months after I accepted the job offer from the university rector. Saw the offer, put my laptop aside and thought 'Be careful what you wish for -- you just got it!' Grew up in the icy, snowy Midwest Ameriku where snowplows push heavy sludge into icy mountains lining highways and only knew that winter meant shivering under covers in German-style Italianate houses built in the mid-18th century with grand wooden staircase, a cubbyhole with a door underneath and servants bells from the kitchen to the attic. Timmy and I played in there for hours, sweating as we giggled and painted the walls red, white and blue. Mom had some extra paint and hung a utility lamp in the corner -- so it got very hot. We would stay until Fozie or Betty or Sue or Freda told us lunch or dinner was ready. Oh, we weren't rich; those were helpers that my mom found -- students and cleaners who could handle childcare at times. Dad was a doctor, we knew that -- but Mom mostly took classes and had friends who smoked on the blankets in the park where she laid out picnics. We never ate normal food like other kids got -- cans of soda or Cheezits. Nope. Breakfast was sunflower seeds, orange slices or apples with peanut butter. Burned Lucy toast served on the open oven door to warm us before Timmy and I skedaddled o Mom Janie Sparrow Spain Lavender smiles sweetly at my arrival.