Random Connect Points:
Reba's Stories

The old Yellow Bike got a spa day and a little cosmetic work done at Cyclopedia at Pawleys, thanks to a minor breakdown. This is us post-spa at the bike shop. She's absolutely glowing! Got me to remembering why I love this old gal so much and how many lessons I've learned from her. My post from her eighth bike-i-versary last summer sums it up perfectly.  A few of those lessons include: 1 - Don't avoid the hills. 2 - Slow down and enjoy what you're passing by 3 - Asking for help is OK 4 - Do the hard part first. Read the post for the full list.

Instead of the Rome excursion, we opted to stay in the charming little port town of Civitavecchia and do a walking food tasting tour.  What a great experience to learn about local food, customs, history and architecture from a young local who organized the tour based on his personal experiences.  Six tour stops mirrored food experiences from throughout a typical day (although we experienced the whole day of food in about three hours). Our guide, Matteo, explained life in this bustling port city revolves around food and socializing. He promised us plenty of both during our time with him. First we stopped for biscottini in a small pastry shop. These miniature versions of biscotti are what a local would munch on first thing in the morning. Next was a stop for cappuccino and a croissant-type pastry filled with chocolate (for me) and marmalade (for David). Matteo said a typical morning may involve a quick stop in a shop like this for a cappuccino and pastry to visit with frien...

(Writer's note: I wrote this review in 2019 shortly after the book came out. The podcast mentioned below is still online and is as relevant today as it was when the interview was done in 2019. This book is a must-read for anyone who thinks they might have an understanding of this complex story). Rarely does a book appeal to all my “reading” senses – well written, important message, compelling story and human connections. “Grace Will Lead Us Home” about the shootings at Mother Emanuel A.M.E. Church is one of them. J ennifer Berry Hawes  wrote the book while a reporter for the Post and Courier and witnessed first-hand many of the details surrounding this tragedy. Currently she writes for ProPublica. When I read writing by an author whose work really grabs me, I like to mark up the pages and go back and read those favorite lines over and over. This book is dog-eared with turned-down pages, numerous bookmarks and notes scribbled in the margins. For anyone who thinks they...

Every election cycle I think ‘how can things get any worse than this one?’ And I don’t mean with the underhanded antics of the people running and the political meanness we see at every turn. I mean how can things get any worse in terms of voter participation, interest and engagement? In the weeks leading up to this week’s primary, I came to realize how many people I encounter in my daily life who didn’t realize we had a primary election on June 11. Many thought they had to register by party to participate in the primary. Others just plain didn’t care. Most had no idea who they would see on their specific ballot on Tuesday. This concerned me more than it probably should have since I had no real dog in any fight this cycle. But I took to my social platforms, text groups and daily interactions with people to encourage them to vote.  I shared resources I thought might help.  The Election Commission’s website  is a goldmine of information to help people  look at sample ba...

"The Women" by Kristin Hannah  came recommended to me by several people ranging in age from young 20s to late 80s. It’s the Vietnam-era story of a 21year-old nurse, Frankie McGrath, from a wealthy (and rather sheltered) southern California family. She naively volunteers for an Army Nurse Corp tour in Vietnam following the death of her brother in the war. I was initially drawn to the book because my recollection of the Vietnam War is vague. I was 12 when the soldiers returned home. My parents hadn’t allowed us to watch news coverage. I knew one person who had lost a father in the war. I had a POW bracelet. We never really studied Vietnam in school because that era wasn’t quite yet “history” in the late 70s and early 80s. That was my limited context going into this book. While on her first tour, Frankie lives with and works alongside two other nurses from backgrounds vastly different from hers. These three nurses build a lifelong bond of friendship that carries them through...

As a milestone anniversary of my high school graduation hits this year, I recently unearthed some old photos that prompted some reflection over the many life lessons I’ve learned since that day. A lot has changed since 1979 when my friends and I walked across the gym stage to graduate. That newly minted graduate had no idea what was in store for the next 45 years of a winding, yet in retrospect, amazingly aligned career path. I also had no idea of the lessons I would learn along the way. Over the years during this season of graduation and new beginnings, I have fine-tuned a list of life lessons for new graduates and young professionals. I like to revisit and update this list annually as a way to reflect on the past year. Lessons from diploma to today 1. Take risks. Be curious and look for the unexpected opportunities. No one can expect perfection . It’s OK to be a beginner . You can often learn more from mistakes than successes. Yes, really, you can. 2. Cultivate strong writi...

Our sweet, gentle Flossie left us on Friday after bringing us six years of joy and the most uncomplicated and consistent love that only a dog can offer. Flossie came to us from PetsInc during the September 2018 Hurricane Florence. I had gone to PetsInc to walk dogs that had been evacuated from the coast. Bringing home a dog was the last thing on my mind that afternoon. As I was leaving my shift, I spotted her in a small pen in the office where she enthusiastically greeted visitors as they came into the building. Our eyes met, and I was drawn to her for a few belly scratches and ear rubs. I asked if I could take her for a spin around the property. Long story short (read the full "gotcha" story here ), she came home with me. She was named after the hurricane that took me to PetsInc that muggy, wet September afternoon. The sassy nickname Flossie seemed to fit her better than the stodgier sounding Florence. We didn’t know exactly how old she was, but the vet said her teeth indi...