Tonight after dinner, my daughter Robyn and I headed to the subway, she to go to her place and I to mine. At the bottom of the stairs, my train was waiting and, when I hesitated for a minute, she cheerfully said, “Get on your train, Momma!” and so without much ado, I hopped on, blew her a kiss, and the doors closed.

I have a hard time posting "testimonials" about my work. I'm pretty sure it's a learned behavior from a family of undersung Quaker-ish sorts. Self-promotion is suspect; bragging makes me queasy. It's probably the most generous move, in the face of a compliment (even one as simple as, "You look good in that shirt!") to simply accept and be grateful.