Author & Speaker, Love Earth Now.
One of the singular joys of getting older (or not) is the sudden accumulation of cheery white-hatted, amber-orange pill bottles. What used to make a rare appearance, one bottle here or there, after a dental surgery, say, now piles up like candy wrappers on Halloween night.
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The peas in this half-empty bag, left by a former roommate, were pretty shriveled when I sawzall-ed it out of the encrusted freezer. I confess I was tempted to toss them straight in the compost bin. Easy peasy (pun intended).
But
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My laptop currently rests on an Army-green picnic table covered in graffiti, some faded and some so recent I had to check for wet paint before sitting. Surrounded by towering trees, the table
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I suddenly feel like one of the wealthiest people in the world. I’m sitting, literally and figuratively, on a case of 48 rolls of toilet paper. Never thought I’d be so excited about toilet paper—even though I have
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