My dad, a World War II veteran of the U.S. Naval Construction Battalions (aka the Navy Seabees) built a double-decker back porch at our two-story duplex, a brick barbecue pit in our back yard and three big closets in our basement. When my mother asked him to put in a second bathroom, he hung a fake urinal on a nail in one of those closets.
The author's father after a successful fishing trip.Mom laughed — and so did I. Daddy's sense of humor has inspired how I live, as have his deep love of reading and his innate generosity. Father's Day is the perfect time to honor my Greatest Generation dad.
Some Sundays, we had "double-header chicken," which took hours to cook because my father cranked up the grate on the grill, to accommodate the two games.
My love of baseball comes from my father. Every summer, on Sundays he and my grandfather would listen to the game on the radio while barbecuing chicken. While my mom and grandma fixed side dishes in the kitchen, my job was to bring cold beers out to the men now and then. Over time, I started sitting with them, learning about the game.
Sometimes, when my mother called out the back door to ask when dinner might be ready, Daddy would report, "It's only the bottom of the sixth" or "We have to break this tie first." Some Sundays, we had "double-header chicken," which took hours to cook because my father cranked up the grate on the grill, to accommodate the two games.
Reading Books Together 
On many Saturday nights, Daddy and I watched old movies together in the den, often while my mother read in the kitchen. Neither of my parents went to college, but both were avid readers. Like many of their generation, they belonged to a Book-of-the-Month club. Often, the three of us would bring different books to the dinner table, a practice now frowned on. "Wow — listen to this paragraph," one of us would say, and then read aloud. If we'd all read the same book, we would talk about it.
One summer, Daddy and I whipped through all of Ian Fleming's James Bond novels — and then laughed ever after, because neither of us could keep all the plots straight. I also read my dad's copy of "The Bluejacket's Manual," the enlightening handbook for all Navy personnel, and I spent time perusing the Teamster's contract, which my father, a truck driver and union shop steward, kept on our kitchen table.
The author's father, a World War II veteranAn avid fisherman, Daddy always baited the hook for me when our family went fishing because I was a squeamish kid who insisted on wrapping the doomed minnow or worm in a tissue before inserting the hook. Still, he taught me how to handle the tiller on the outboard motor so I could steer the boat out on a lake.
I learned the importance of expressing appreciation when I repeatedly saw my dad tip the letter carrier and the trash pick-up crew. At Christmas, he handed out bottles of whiskey; I make mini loaves of pumpkin bread. When a close friend had to give up his dog when he moved to a small apartment, Daddy convinced my mother to adopt his pal's pet.
Hanging Out on Saturdays 
Though many in his generation weren't much involved in infant care, when I was 8 or 9, sometimes my dad took me on his Saturday morning rounds. We might hit the barbershop or the hardware store (I love them still) or maybe we'd swing by my cousin's gas station to visit for a while.
At lunchtime, we'd enjoy sandwiches at the neighborhood tavern. I knew the place well, because families routinely gathered there on Friday nights, when dads lined up at the bar, moms talked at the tables in the center of the room and kids played Crazy Eights in the booths along the wall. We were loyal customers, because years before, the tavern owner had loaned my father the money to buy my mother's wedding ring. 
The author as a baby with her fatherGrowing up, I often heard great stories from his past. As a child during World War I, one day he ran into the backyard and gobbled up his family's entire monthly ration of butter. I also learned that a decade later, after his father had bought him a pony, Daddy traded the animal to another boy for a bicycle.
More than once, he talked about relishing the day he first tasted fresh pineapple in Hawaii, on a stop on his way to build airstrips on Guam during the war. We were a meat-and-potatoes family and my mom did most of the cooking, but each summer, my dad would make the occasional pot of succotash from fresh vegetables. He did not get along well with our new garbage disposal, and dismantled it one day when it mangled a spoon.
A 'Second Dad' for My Aunt
In some ways, parenting me was not my father's first experience. His sister, born 15 years after he was, often told me that he had served as "a second dad" for her, especially after their father died when she was 13 and their mother was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. "As I grew up, he was always reaching for his wallet," my aunt said, "offering me whatever money I might need."
When I was 16 and prone to gossiping about my classmates, Daddy would listen for a bit and then stop me with this challenge: "Run through your own backyard." 
He did his sister another big favor as well. When my aunt entered a convent the day after she graduated from high school, her big brother brought her back home the next day. He insisted she give that big a decision more time. Soon after, she met and married a wonderful man, and I owe my five first cousins to them.  
When I married at 21, my parents gave me the 1966 candy apple red Mustang that Daddy and I had convinced my mom our family needed to buy just a few years earlier. On the night my son was born, a year after my mother died, Daddy showed up at the hospital and promised me he'd buy the infant a Mustang when he turned 16. Sadly, my father died before he could make good on that.  
'If You're Going to Fall Down...' 
When I was 16 and prone to gossiping about my classmates, Daddy would listen for a bit and then stop me with this challenge: "Run through your own backyard." I remember my father's advice on another topic, too. Whenever I'm tempted to hurry — though that increases the chance for taking a tumble at my age — I remember Daddy's maxim, said only partly in jest: "If you're going to fall down, have a beer first so you don't get hurt."
When my father told a slightly off-color joke at the breakfast table the weekend I brought home my new college roommate, my mother and I held our breath until Janet burst out laughing, and then we joined right in.
I also recall laughing at Daddy's stock response to any unanswerable question: "Would you eat a cold potato if I warmed it for you?" He'd learned the saying as a boy, from Irish relatives.
"I loved your dad — he was fun," a cousin told me just recently. That he was, and I loved him too.


Memories of a Greatest Generation Dad

Patricia Corrigan

It's a Sunday afternoon in 1977 and my 10-year old self is with my father in the basement helping with a repair project. Blue Maxwell House coffee cans line the wall, filled with useful metal bits and a hurricane glass sits next to its kerosene base on a bookshelf. 
We stand next to the furnace that rumbles now and then, our heads bent over the open jaws of the vise. My father demonstrates how to twiddle the handle to push the opposing blocks of metal closer and closer to the piece of wood, pressing it snug.
Tools used to fix the wiggly bridge"Hand me a nail." he says. I hand him a nail. "Hand me the hammer." I hand him the hammer. The afternoon proceeds in this manner, serious and scripted. Did I ever ask to use the hammer myself? Did he ever offer? I can't be sure. I'd like to give him that possibility. Maybe I wasn't that interested in hammers or nails. I just wanted to be there with my dad, doing something simple and right. 
Did I ever ask to use the hammer myself? Did he ever offer? I can't be sure. 
Years later, as a frugal feminist, my tool-deprivation and secondary role irked me. Why was it that all the guys took 'shop' in middle school and I took 'home-ec?' Why was it that I saw myself only in the helper and cleaner-upper role on those Sunday basement afternoons?  
Here I was paying people to fix my stuff. And I was outsourcing joy — earned by problem-solving and fixing with my own wits and hands.
A Light Bulb Went Off
In my early 50s all that ended along with my marriage when I had to replace a recessed light. "I can do that," I thought. I took the bulb to the hardware store and found its twin. At home, no matter how many YouTube videos I watched, the new bulb would not fit.  
A catty voice in my head said: "How long does it take a divorced woman to change a lightbulb...?"  A different voice countered, "What would you say to a friend?" and answered, "Go to the hardware store and ask the experts."
My local ACE hardware is a mix of country store and bougie boutique. Antique baseball bats line the walls and I covet their $26 art-deco nightlights. Within 5 seconds of entering you'll hear: "Can I help you find something m'am?" At the key counter I found Johnny ("How can I help you?"), a Midwestern gentleman with rimless spectacles and a kindly, curious nature. 
I told him my story and asked, "Do you know how to fix this?" He said, "No, I don't. But I bet together we can figure it out."
Years of expecting expertise in others and denying my own responsibility and power dissolved with Johnny's words. We inspected the metal collar; we gazed at the bulb. My hands discovered that if I held the collar base and squeezed the pins on the side and he put the bulb in, the satisfying click happened. A design flaw! Only larger hands could do both tasks at once. 
Meeting a Patient and Kind Teacher 
Soon after, I lucked into a patient and kind teacher in the world of fixing and making. We met at a local dance. His top hat, bespoke patterned coat, gray cargo shorts and white knee-high shrimper's boots caught my eye. I asked, as we danced (he mysteriously graceful in his rubber boots) "Are you an artist?" He gazed distantly and said, "It's more complicated than that." 
Wiggly bridge opening, 2019Over tea the next day he said he works summers at various dance and family camps; one in the Catskills where he is rebuilding a suspended bridge. Would I like to join him for a week of music, dancing and bridge-repair? A day later, after googling the heck out of him, I said, why yes, yes I would.
He picked me up in his Honda Odyssey, the back seats removed, the floor a collage of carpet remnants, coils of thick rope, hacksaw blades, socket wrenches, drift punches, a level; though at the time I didn't know their names. At night he threw down faded cushions from his 1968 VW bus, fell asleep and snored. I lay there at the rest-stop and listened to the hum of 18-wheelers idling nearby and in the glare of the lights wondered and smiled at what I was doing with my "one wild and precious life." 
Getting to Work 
On that first morning at camp we approached a red shed in a green field where a few sheep nibbled nonchalantly. I envied their ease. I dreaded the first impression as the only woman in the shop with the young guys in their day-glo T-shirts and Timberland boots. The hard-rock oldies on the radio and the scent of sawdust felt familiar. 
The guys were sunny and more interested in their show-and-tell and jokey ribbing than in me. My friend put me to work in the shelter of a 1956 Rockwell drill press with a simple task: drill holes in the stanchions that would hold the hand-ropes. 
A soothing rhythm developed as my fingers set the plastic ratchet clamps to hold the wood and slowly lowered the drill bit as wood particles flurried away. The repetition relaxed and satisfied. I could focus on one thing. That thing was do-able. It didn't involve complex emotions or unpredictable scenarios. It wasn't gendered or hard or something held by a priesthood. 
Wiggly bridge opening, 2019Soon the movement of clamp to wood, metal bit to wood became one graceful action. My fingertips found a spiky edge where the drill bit broke through. For every problem there was a tool to solve it —hello, Shinto wood rasp! I enjoyed the rasp's toothy grasp on the wood and smoothing effect. "We're not making furniture here," my teacher chided.  
As on all bridges in folk tales, I wrestled. My impatient desire to prove a point to myself and resentment of gendered expertise conflicted with the slow pace and the fact I was a novice with a guy who knew more than I did. And like most work, it wasn't all exciting power-tool wielding action. There were simple repetitive tasks, like gooping anti-seize paste onto every bolt on the bridge, or tying clove hitches over and over.  
I returned to humility and gratitude. Given the major shifts in my life, where else would I rather be than here, being of use, on a wiggly cable bridge looking out over a clear pond with mist rising off of it and a thick margin of wild green in the distance? 
Building Connections 
Like the nursery rhyme "This is the House that Jack Built" I understood that every part of what I was doing held a future human relationship. If the stanchion can't be built, then the hand-rope won't support the children's hands. If the children's hands won't be supported, they can't cross the bridge. If the children can't cross the bridge, the connection between the old camp and the new camp will be lost; the bridge will exist only in memory. 
When you pick up a tool, you animate it with your energy and your intention. My mentor said, "People say, "Man, I can knock that out in an hour! Your volunteer is gonna take 6 hours to put those rivets in." And I say, "yeah, but when she walks by those rivets later, she's gonna feel they're hers."  
In that moment I felt that in fixing material objects, the world is made well in some small way, and something inside is fixed too. 
That light in my kitchen became a symbol of my ability to take care of myself and to collaborate with others. It sparked a belief in my ability to problem-solve and use tools. Working on the bridge became proof that in the aftermath of emotional discord and weariness, self-renewal was possible.
For the first time in 10 years, the "wiggly bridge" of camp lore came to life. My mad hatter showed up in magenta Alice-in-Wonderland leggings, a burgundy brocade coat and his signature top hat. He lined up the children, "Youngest to oldest! Two by two!" between pips of his whistle. 
The children's hands held the guide-ropes I had pulled through the stanchions. Their hesitant steps became confident as they giggled at the bridge's bounce and sway. My teacher merrily tapped planks of the bridge with his black umbrella as he led the parade. 
I leaned against a tree and watched as the children and mothers crossed the bridge, serenaded by fiddles, guitars and song. In that moment I felt that in fixing material objects, the world is made well in some small way, and something inside is fixed too. 


If I Had a Hammer

Moira Bucciarelli

Capital-gains taxes occur when you sell an asset, like your home or a stock. They are paid to both the state and federal government. The government collects a percentage tax on the gain or profit of the asset while in your possession.
Capital gains tax is not something to worry about, but is something to plan for as you prepare to sell an asset.As you think ahead to tax season, understand that taxes on capital gains were lowered in 2017 and remain at the lowest rate in decades as of this writing. The average taxpayer pays a 15% federal tax on long-term capital gains, defined as the profit on an asset you have owned for more than one year.
Capital-gains taxes occur when you sell an asset, like your home or a stock.
A few people, those whose income is over $445,850, pay a 20% federal tax. There are exceptions where capital gains trigger a higher rate, but they apply to small business stock and collectible sales. More information is available from the IRS at Topic No. 409, Capital Gains and Losses | Internal Revenue Service.
The bottom line is that capital gains tax is not something to worry about, but is something to plan for as you prepare to sell an asset.
Here are three steps to make capital gains an easier process in your life:
1. Learn the Lingo
When you buy a home or stock, the price you pay for it is called the basis of that item. Knowing the basis will make your life easier when you go to sell any property or investment.
The property may get a step-up in basis if you owned it in joint name and became the sole owner through a death. Typically, property has increased in value over time which means your half of the property has had the original value and the other half is the value when it was transferred to you following the death of your co-owner.
This step-up of basis also applies to inherited assets. All property gets a step-up in cost basis to the current value for the new owner following a death. This applies to your home, monies in a brokerage account and other assets. If others inherit your property, they will receive a step-up in value, whether they are relatives or friends.
In addition, understand whether the property was held short-term or long-term. The gain is calculated based on how long you have held the property. Anything less than a year is considered short-term. Longer than a year is a long-term gain calculated at a lower rate.
2. Keep Good Records
Capital gain rules apply to investments like stocks, cryptocurrency, mutual funds and certain types of life insurance. In the case of these investments, the investment or insurance company maintains the records for you.
At the end of the year, companies send a Form 1099. On the 1099, only the proceeds are recorded. You need to ask at the time of the sale what you paid for it (if they do not note it on paperwork), any other payments you may have made such as life insurance premiums and calculate any investment fees relevant to the sale. This will give you the current basis of the property and allow you to calculate the anticipated taxes.
For more information, read IRS Publication 550, Investment Income and Expenses.
Capital gains taxes occur when you sell your home residence, but you can prepare now even in this inflated home price environment. Home improvements over the time of your ownership add to the basis of your home.
Save yourself stress and taxes in the future by keeping a tally of home-improvement costs. Even if you are not selling this year, organizing that paperwork now so you can keep those receipts and information separately will save you a hassle in future years.
Save yourself stress and taxes in the future by keeping a tally of home-improvement costs.
Keeping good records can increase the home's cost basis for tax purposes, saving you from paying unnecessary capital-gains taxes if you sell. A new kitchen, bath or outdoor patios and lights — essentially anything beyond paint and maintenance. Here's the full IRS list of what qualifies. When you sell your house, provide these numbers to your accountant.
Caution: Do not increase the cost basis of your home by making improvements you do not need or want. There is no guarantee that expenses will be offset by the selling price, no matter what your real estate agent says.
You add the cost basis to the cost of improvements you have made to the property. This is tangible upgrades like landscaping, or building additions that will sell with the property. Not the maintenance over the years of lawn mowing or painting to keep the property in good condition.
See list below for clarity and read IRS Publication 523 (2022), Selling Your Home | Internal Revenue Service. Then, review your records and dig out your calculator to find your full basis for tax purposes when you file for tax year 2023.
Examples of improvements include:
Heating system.Central air conditioning or humidifier.Central vacuum.Wired security system.Lawn sprinkler system.Exterior storm windows or doors.Pipes and duct work.Septic system.Water heater.Built-in appliances.Kitchen modernization.Wall-to-wall carpeting.Your basis when you sell the property will be the cost basis when you bought the property plus the cost of improvements. Remember, you may qualify for a $250,000 capital gain exclusion ($500,000 if you were married) if this has been your main home two out of the past five years and you meet other requirements. As a result, your capital gains tax may not be as much, especially when including the improvements in your home. More information is available at IRS Publication 523, Selling Your Home - Internal Revenue Service.
People have put off selling their homes because they fear their capital gains will exceed the exemption amount. If you are delaying selling a too-big home because of the gain and the fear of taxes, there is something you can do now to prepare.
3. Be Tax Prepared
Once you know the basis of your property and its sale price, the difference is considered the capital gains. Use this number to calculate the tax on the property. Unless you are in a state that does not have a capital gains tax, such as Florida, New Hampshire, and Wyoming, be sure to put away in savings 25% of your profit for state and federal taxes.
This set aside is critical so that you have the money to pay the appropriate tax on April 15th of the following year. The best way to do this is to have a separate saving account or short-term certificate of deposit. This way it is clearly separate money set aside for tax purposes and less tempting to dip into through the year.
If this all sounds confusing or overwhelming, then consult a tax professional who does this every day and can simplify your life even when it is not tax season. Capital gains are manageable if you are not blindsided by lack of knowledge.


Understanding Capital Gains

Christine D. Moriarty

Start a new business? Check.Learn a new language? Check.Make a new friend? Check. After reading "The Upgrade: How the Female Brain Gets Stronger and Better in Midlife and Beyond" by Louann Brizendine, M.D., I felt the excitement that made me want to play pickleball doubles with a female partner against two males and say to my partner: "We're going to win. Girl power!" That's right. Girl power. But not just any girl power. Over 50 girl power. When was the last time you felt that way?
"You can't help getting older, but you can take control of what your life looks like as you get older. We can get older and get better. Don't give up."If it's been a while, I have good news. You can feel it, too. You can feel it even if you think you've been going downhill as you've gotten older.
"The cultural assumption is that after 40 or 50, it's all over, ladies."
"The cultural assumption is that after 40 or 50, it's all over, ladies," says Brizendine. "Your natural thought is that you're no longer relevant to the culture because you're not fertile anymore, right? But once you get through those miserable years during the transition, so many things are so much better."
The bottom line is that you're not going through a downgrade as you age. You're going through an upgrade. And Brizendine can prove it. After receiving her degree in neurobiology at UC Berkeley, Brizendine graduated from Yale School of Medicine and did her internship and residency at Harvard Medical School. She founded the Women's Mood and Hormone Clinic at UC San Francisco and is a practicing psychiatrist.
The brain expert and author of "The Female Brain" and "The Male Brain," who is 70, identifies critical times in a woman's life based on hormonal changes. She also changed the terms for these periods to better explain them. 
This book is about women, but it also has some critical learnings for men. Brizendine says she's heard from many men who buy and read the books to understand better and support women going through these changes.
The Hormonal War Zone
Brizendine describes "The Upgrade" in her book as "the wisdom phase that emerges after spending decades in the hormonal war zone."
The bottom line is that you're not going through a downgrade as you age. You're going through an upgrade. 
But what is the hormonal war zone? Our hormonal war zone, says Brizendine, starts at puberty and ends at menopause. During these roughly 35 years, a combination of ovarian hormones, adrenal hormones and brain and nervous system chemicals have constantly changed and affected our bodies and behaviors. Brizendine defines and explains all of these terms as if she were conversing with you, not like you're reading a science textbook. 
Ovarian hormones prepare and sustain the body for pregnancy and have other functions.These hormones include estrogen (controls brain energy, inflammation, mood, mental ability and affectionate behavior), progesterone (makes you want to be comfortable and cozy, as well as creating the "brain fog" during pregnancy), and testosterone (drives libido, muscle stimulation and zest for life).
Adrenal hormones include adrenaline (which provides bursts of energy to respond to danger), cortisol (which regulates your body's stress, emotional reactions and metabolism), and DHEA (which counteracts cortisol, decreases depression, increases sex drive and causes acne and body odor).
Finally, brain and nervous system chemicals include follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH), which triggers the creation of follicles in the ovary to get the best eggs ready for fertilization; luteinizing hormone (LH), which brings the egg to release; oxytocin, which moves together with estrogen and leads to a bonding effect, and GABA (gamma-aminobutyric acid) which acts as the body's natural Valium.
All of these hormones have a profound effect on the brain. Says Brizendine, "Waves of LH, FSH, estrogen, oxytocin and testosterone temporarily reorganize brain networks and stimulate qualities like memory, language and affection, peaking around ovulation."
The Transition
Between 45 and 55, women begin "The Transition," formerly known as perimenopause, which is "the developmental phase of a woman's life when the brain and body enter unfamiliar territory as the reproductive-­phase circuits are finishing their job," says Brizendine. 
This is often a time when our hormones feel totally out of whack. It's also a good time for women to consider Hormone Therapy (HT), she says, and not just for hot flashes. If you're nervous about trying HT, you're not alone.
 "The transition marks a change in our relationships and societal roles." 
"The Women's Health Initiative study in 2002 set women back for many years by saying hormone therapy could lead to an increased risk of breast cancer and heart disease," says Brizendine. "Those findings were later found to be untrue, but doctors today are still wary about prescription hormone therapy."
Yet, for many women going through the transition, HT's estrogen and progesterone "can soften the wildness of the waves by calming the brain's spiky demands for a dwindling supply in the ovaries," says Brizendine.
Plus, every tissue and organ in the body uses hormones. "Estrogen helps with vascular health, and the brain has estrogen receptors all over it," says Brizendine. HT can help neutralize the glitchy, brain fog symptoms that may occur during perimenopause and beyond.
While hormones are the show's star, many other psychological growth phases occur during the transition, including shifting identities and moving toward authenticity. "The transition marks a change in our relationships and societal roles," says Brizendine.  
The Upgrade
This is when women are "emerging into the most powerful identity phase," says Brizendine, previously known as menopause or postmenopause. It may be the understatement of the year, but I like the term Upgrade vs menopause, don't you? Here's why Brizendine changed it:
"'Perimenopause' and 'menopause' are fossil words created by men at pharmaceutical companies," Brizendine writes. "These words arose as men studied how to maintain elasticity and fullness in the parts of our bodies they, as cisgender men, like to interact with, i.e., breasts and vaginas. I don't believe they encompass the full scope of the Upgrade, and so I decline to use them, other than in this note explaining my reasons."
"'Perimenopause' and 'menopause' are fossil words created by men at pharmaceutical companies."
The Upgrade can take over a decade and continue for the rest of a woman's life. During this phase, the female brain can make changes accessible to its wiring during the reproductive stage. Ultimately, the Upgrade is "about realizing you have a choice about your path in the second half of life," says Brizendine.
Benefits You Can Expect During the Upgrade
In the book, Brizendine shares these positives you can enjoy during the Upgrade:
● Directness. Brizendine explains that younger women's brains use estrogen to get along with others for reproductive purposes biologically. During the Upgrade, new hormonal influences motivate us to speak up.
● Focus. During the Upgrade, our brains can only hold one thought. Instead of dealing with the anxiety of multitasking, we can become more engaged, focused and thorough in our actions.
● Validation from within. Since our fertility hormones are no longer driving our need for external approval, we are more confident in our wisdom and experience.
● The return of fearlessness. Our hormones are no longer driving us to please others, so we can often find the courage to try new things during the Upgrade.
● Freedom. Without the "urges, obsessions and delusions that your fertility hormones created around relationships and intimacy," your brain is free "to explore and expand intellectually and emotionally."
The 3 Necessary Ingredients 
Brizendine (or anyone) can't wave a magic wand and make everything wonderful during the Upgrade. You'll have to put in a little work. Luckily, she has a formula. "You can sleep, eat and exercise your way to an Upgrade," she says.  Here's how:
1. Sleep
"Sleep is important for every life function," says Brizendine, "especially for brain function." As your brain is getting used to the hormonal changes during the Upgrade, it needs sleep to reset and recharge. 
However, sleep can be more difficult as you age. "As women age, their nighttime sleep can be less steady because of drops in estrogen and hot flashes, among other things," says Brizendine. Sleep interruptions contribute to short-term memory loss.
Brizendine doesn't recommend using prescription and over-the-counter sleep aids. They contain chemicals that block the brain's ability to lay down memory pathways, she writes, which can lead to forgetfulness, confusion, falls and even the feeling that you have dementia. 
Instead, she recommends a series of actions that help you sleep better. These include getting direct sunlight, vigorous exercise before 3 p.m., limiting yourself to one cup of something caffeinated in the morning at the most, eliminating alcohol at night, eating protein and nonstarchy vegetables at night, finishing dinner by 6 p.m., and shutting off tech at least 30 minutes before you go to sleep. 
Keep your bedroom between 66 and 68 degrees, which is optimal for sleeping. You can use blankets. I shared my favorite line with my husband: "If your spouse complains, tell him to man up and get a heating pad." Brizendine also suggests a short nap (20 minutes) before 4 p.m. if you've gotten under six hours of sleep.
"Drink a shot of joy every day by moving to music, walking in nature, jumping into a pool. Do something playful and something challenging or new every day."
2. Food and Drink
Unhealthy foods we could get away with eating when we were younger have a more significant effect on our microbiome during the Upgrade, says Brizendine. The microbiome includes the cells and bacteria in our intestines that are essential to keeping our immune systems healthy.
That means that sugar and processed food cause more inflammation, drive higher weight gain and decrease brain function during this phase. What should you eat to optimize your Upgrade experience?
A 2023 study found that the Mediterranean diet was associated with a lower incidence of brain decline in older adults. Brizendine recommends following the plan, which includes lean proteins, leafy greens and a small amount of healthy fats. 
She follows the Mediterranean diet, with a particular emphasis on eating a good amount of protein. Protein is crucial for muscle building and strength, and Brizendine aims for 100 grams of protein each day and a minimum of 80 grams daily. She also suggests eating foods high in fiber. Fiber encourages the brain's regeneration, which can help protect it from Parkinson's and Alzheimer's diseases. 
Be careful with your wine consumption, Brizendine says. Stick to only one glass of wine per day. Otherwise, alcohol becomes an inflammatory to the brain and can even lead to permanent brain damage.   
Timing your eating and drinking is essential, too. Brizendine suggests allowing 12 to 16 hours between dinner and breakfast. "It stresses the metabolism in a good way, just like building muscles in the gym," she says. "Giving the GI tract a rest during these hours helps the microbiome flourish."
3. Movement
"Sarcopenia means the wasting away of muscles, and starting at age 35, our muscles start to break down," says Brizendine. "We need to counteract it by stimulating muscles through exercise and eating protein."
Strong muscles are essential to prevent falls, maintain balance and more, says Brizendine. But beyond building muscles, exercise has wide-ranging effects on your body. Studies have shown that moderate aerobic exercise, for 30 to 60 minutes three times a week, increases the diversity of microbes in your intestines, she says, and reduces your gut's inflammation in only six weeks.
Even after just one exercise session, your mood is improved as your brain releases neurotransmitters, including endorphin, dopamine, noradrenaline and serotonin. That single workout can also improve your reaction time and your ability to focus for at least two hours afterward, says Brizendine. If you need a place to start, here's Brizendine's prescription:
"Drink a shot of joy every day by moving to music, walking in nature, jumping into a pool. Do something playful and something challenging or new every day. Take up space. When you go to the gym, occupy the weight room. Like the warrior stance, it tells the brain that you are powerful. Just don't let exuberance override your better judgment about how much you can lift."
Ready for an Upgrade?
Brizendine offers these parting words: "You can't help getting older, but you can take control of what your life looks like as you get older. We can get older and get better. Don't give up."


How Women's Brains Can Get Their Mojo Back After Midlife

Margie Zable Fisher

If there is one conversation that encapsulates who my father was, it's him explaining to me why it would be fiscally irresponsible to give me a dollar so I could get in line at the ice cream man's truck on a summer day in New Orleans.
The author, Keturah Kendrick, and her father, Gerald."But 'Turah . . . that don't make no sense," he'd reasoned. "We got a whole gallon of cherry vanilla in the freezer. I just bought it, too. So, it's fresh."
I was nine. I struggled to make the connection between the ice cream man's multiplicity of choices and the one old-people flavor in our freezer that my siblings and I ate only when every other snack in the house was gone.
My father's lifelong refusal to spend money on foolery served me well.
I tried to explain to my father that his rationale didn't align with my valid reason for needing him to be loose with his money — just this once. "But I don't want the ice cream we have here," I said. "I want what the ice cream man has."
I didn't get my dollar. What I did get was a reminder that my father believed there was no greater lesson to teach his children than how to save money; he believed the surest path to saving money was to never spend it in the first place.
Living My Father’s Lessons
Though resentful of his lessons as a child, I benefited from them as a young adult. At 26 years old, I left New Orleans for New York City with $3,000 in my bank account. After signing a lease on an apartment in Harlem and buying groceries and a subway pass, I was left with $313.57.
My father's lifelong refusal to spend money on foolery served me well. Though I had a roommate those first few years and freelance work facilitating creative writing workshops in public schools, trying to get my footing up North forced me to remind myself that I had cherry vanilla in the freezer.
I took full advantage of the many free activities the city offered, but became quite discerning about when and where I'd spend the little disposable income I had after paying my bills.
Friends would marvel at how easily I passed on popular night clubs, exclusive restaurants and quick get-aways to D.C. I was always tickled by their awe. "Clearly, y'all didn't have Gerald Kendrick for a father," I'd laugh.
Questioning the "Never Spend" Mentality
Now at midlife, I'm starting to find my father's lessons more burdensome than beneficial. He's been gone for a decade now, but his influence on how I view money is alive and well. For the last 20 years, Gerald Kendrick has whispered in my ear, "But 'Turah . . . that don't make no sense."
When I lived overseas, my job paid for an annual flight home. They debited an extra $1,500 into my bank account right before summer break and left me up to my own devices.
The moments when my father's frugal ideology won't let me be great have become comical, if not completely ridiculous.
While I was searching for the most convenient flight from Shanghai back to New York City, I heard Gerald's voice: But this 26-hour flight with a 10-hour layover in Doha costs only $1,000. That's $500 extra bucks you can keep in your pocket!
To this day, I have no idea what I did with that extra windfall of money. I do remember thinking around my third hour sitting in the fancy Doha airport, "This was stupid. Why didn't I just book the saner flight?"
The moments when my father's frugal ideology won't let me be great have become comical, if not completely ridiculous. For instance, I backed out of a friend's birthday dinner because I knew the women gathered would split the bill and the birthday girl would be shut down when she fake-offered to pay. In New York City restaurant math, that meant I'd dole out approximately $125 on one meal.
Sure, I'd known the woman we were celebrating for over 20 years. Her birthday happened only once a year and spending that amount of money at group dinners occurred just as often as my friend's celebration of living another year.
And what made my choosing to sit at home while my friends laughed together at dinner the most ridiculous? I had the damn money. It wasn't like I had to choose between going to the birthday dinner and paying my electricity bill. It really was the difference between splurging on this celebratory meal or buying a new dress.
Learning to Silence My Father's Voice
As I reach my late forties, I'm beginning to unpack what underlay my father's rigid commitment to only spending money when it was absolutely necessary. This hesitancy to use money for the exact purpose it was printed gives the currency much more power than it deserves.
When I was in my 20s in a new, expensive city with no family to feed me, the power money had over my daily life did keep me in a chokehold. Like many young adults, I still was trying to find a career instead of just working jobs. I had a college degree, but no clear vision for how to turn my school learning into a comfortable, middle class life.
Keturah and the luggage she bought over her father's objection.Now, on the cusp of 50, however, I've owned my apartment for years, have established myself as a writer and consultant and have faithfully contributed to long-term savings plans for much of my adult life. Engaging in strategic frivolous spending won't likely result in my having to stand in line at the food pantry or fight foreclosure on my condo.
I have begun resisting my father's miserly ways. Recently, I was killing some time in Century 21, a department store in the lower Manhattan section of New York City. Though I had no intention of buying anything, my eyes fell on a luggage set that some thoughtful designer had made just for me. The most resplendent shade of gold, the carryon roller back with matching tote bag fit into my overall fashion aesthetic and my general rule as a traveler: TEAM CARRY ON, WHEN POSSIBLE.
The set cost $300. As I was imagining all my casual, nonchalant posing in airports across the world with my adorable tote bag in hand and rollerback by my side, Gerald Kendrick stood over my luggage suggesting that I could get a set just as sturdy and attractive from Marshalls. "Bigger sizes and half the prices," he reasoned.
And for the first time in almost 50 years, I told my father to mind his business and treated 9-year-old me to a large snow cone right off the ice cream man's truck.


Unlearning My Father's Lessons in Frugality

Keturah Kendrick

Fond memories of falling in love are easily evoked during the romantic new Broadway musical, "The Notebook," inspired by the 1996 bestselling book by Nicholas Sparks and the subsequent 2004 film. 
Maryann Plunkett and Dorian Harewood in 'The Notebook' on BroadwayThe movie about a devoted couple who never lose sight of their bond is considered one of the highest-grossing romantic dramas of all time and stars Ryan Gosling, Rachel McAdams, Gena Rowlands and James Garner.
Noah reads to his ailing wife from The Notebook, their life story that she put down on paper years before her memory started failing.
In this stage version of the story, which is a musical, there are three sets of actors portraying the main characters, Allie and Noah, a couple who fall deeply in love as teens, come back together as young adults, and are separated in their golden years by Allie's Alzheimer's Disease.
Allie is residing in a nursing home and her devoted husband Noah insists on continuing their lifelong love affair by refusing to leave her side.
To bring her back to him, their family and their precious memories, Noah reads to his ailing wife from The Notebook, their life story that she put down on paper years before her memory started failing.
Portraying Older Allie and Older Noah with a combination of humor and pathos are Maryann Plunkett, who won the 1987 Tony Award for Best Performance by a Leading Actress in a Musical for "Me and My Girl," and Dorian Harewood, an NAACP Theatre Award winner and an Emmy nominee.
A Lifetime of Love 
Plunkett and Harewood have both been nominated for Tony Awards for a leading role in a musical for "The Notebook." The 77th Tony Awards will take place in New York City on Sunday, June 16 and be televised live on CBS. (Check local listings for times.)
The message of the show is that true love conquers all. Even though these two lovers come from two different worlds (he works at a lumber yard and she is from an affluent family that tries to keep them apart), they share a lifetime of love that even severe memory loss cannot fully hamper.
After being married to his wife, Nancy, for 45 years, Dorian Harewood strongly identifies with the love story in "The Notebook."
In an interview, the 73-year-old Harewood said that kind of "fairy tale love" resonates with audiences, especially those who have experienced these emotions. "It is powerful to find that special someone to share your life with," he noted.
Harewood, whose decades-long career has included stage, film, TV and voice acting for more than 100 cartoons, calls "The Notebook" a special project, with extraordinary talent on stage every night.
Maryann Plunkett"I feel this is one of the most unique musicals I've ever been in or ever seen. Getting the Tony nomination is wonderful, but it's just another way for me to thank the people who I am working with," he explained.
Harewood credits his co-star with making "The Notebook" such a rich experience at every performance.
"Maryann is a very, very giving actor. All of us have to be ready because she doesn't do anything the same way every time," he said. "One of the most important things in acting is listening. I have to be on my toes with her and I truly look forward to this during every show."
Harewood says Plunkett was instrumental in making the rehearsal process flow so well. "We had five or six days where we got together before our first official rehearsal," he explained. "Once we started the official rehearsals, we already knew our individual habits, or at least our instincts, and the way we worked, so we were extremely comfortable from the first day. I credit her with that, and it was smooth sailing all the way."
Harewood said he has never experienced a show that had three iterations of the same couple, another aspect of "The Notebook" that makes the show so unique.
The Influence of Bette Davis on Dorian Harewood's Career
"I've grown to know the actors who play Young Allie (Jordan Tyson), Young Noah (John Cardoza), Middle Allie (Joy Woods), and Middle Noah (Ryan Vasquez) and they are tremendous performers. It's exciting to work with them and interesting to watch them create their magic every night; the pride I feel is kind of like watching my kids," he said.
Thinking back to his early career, Harewood has legendary stage and screen siren Bette Davis to thank for the path he has pursued. In 1974, while performing the lead role in the musical "Miss Moffat," the musical version of the movie "The Corn is Green," Davis took the young actor under her wing and gave him sage advice.
"She said she liked my dramatic instincts, which she thought were like hers, and told me I should consider exploring dramatic acting."
He remembers her saying, "I really loved your singing, but I also really loved what you were doing with the acting part, as well. Have you ever thought about acting?"  
Harewood replied that he started as a singer, and acting was not on his mind. "She said she liked my dramatic instincts, which she thought were like hers, and told me I should consider exploring dramatic acting. I told her, 'Well, coming from you, I definitely have to take that into consideration.'"
The two stayed in close contact during various roles and spoke a lot about acting and everything to do with show business. "Bette Davis is definitely the one who talked me into acting. She literally was my mentor in the business," he said. 
The Appeal of 'The Notebook' 
Of "The Notebook," Harewood said, "It doesn't matter what size you are, color you are, sex you are – it encompasses the entire human experience. It's a love story between two people, and their commitment to each other while navigating through the ups and downs of their relationship."
He added that "The Notebook" continues to have such a wide appeal because of "the uniqueness and universality of the love story. It goes across the entire human spectrum. That's why it affects everyone so deeply."
The cast of 'The Notebook' on BroadwayHarewood said that he believes that everyone, in one way or another, has been touched by memory loss and Alzheimer's.
"I grew up with a family down the street that was basically my second family; a terrific group of people. Unfortunately, my best pal Tony's mother and father both died from Alzheimer's. So, I experienced that secondhand through him," he shared. "Everyone has had some kind of connection with a friend or loved one who has had to deal with this."
Dealing With an Alzheimer's Diagnosis
An estimated 6.9 million Americans age 65 and older are currently living with Alzheimer's Disease, a number that could grow to 13.8 million by 2026 unless there are medical breakthroughs to prevent or cure it, according to the National Library of Medicine. Alzheimer's remains the fifth-leading cause of death among Americans ages 65 and older.
"Today, we see that our spouse is not going to remember the season or our names, but years later, she is not going to be able to use a fork."
Jennifer L. FitzPatrick, a psychotherapist with experience in Alzheimer's Disease/Dementia and a former gerontology instructor at Johns Hopkins University, is keenly aware of how difficult it is to reconcile the musical's theme of "time slipping away" for caregivers and their loved ones.
FitzPatrick says that since people can live with Alzheimer's disease and its symptoms for a decade or more, it presents a myriad of challenges for the patient and the caregiver.
"Today, we see that our spouse is not going to remember the season or our names," she explained, "but years later she is not going to be able to use a fork."
The CEO/Founder of Jenerations Health Education, Inc. FitzPatrick's advice for caregivers like Older Noah is "to be kind to yourself and practice self-care. Try to learn everything you can about the kind of dementia your loved one has."
One book she recommends is "The 36-Hour Day," because it explains in great detail what caregivers can expect to happen, both in the mind and body of someone with Alzheimer's.
FitzPatrick said it is wise to accept help from everyone who offers to help you and your loved one. 
"Don't screen people out because they are miles away or not as spry as they used to be," she said. "Friends and relatives can drop off a gift card for a favorite restaurant or offer to cut the lawn."
FitzPatrick is also the author of the 2016 self-help book, "Cruising Through Caregiving: Reducing the Stress of Caring for Your Loved One," a useful resource for caregivers that offers practical ideas and support, including help for those who are helping from a distance.
"Caregiving can be a big part of your life, but it can't be your entire life," FitzPatrick explained. "It is about reducing stress so you can be healthier while you are being a good caregiver."
The Power of Reminiscing 
"It is important to realize that there are people you thought had your back and will disappoint you," FitzPatrick said. "Instead focus on the support you have from family, friends, aides, adult day care, an assisted living facility or nursing home, and hospice care. It is impossible to do this for decades on your own."
"As my character says at the beginning of the show, it's a love story that will affect and will connect to every human being that comes to see it in one way or another." 
Writing in a notebook like [the one] in this story is a great vehicle, but FitzPatrick cautions that it is not quite as "flawlessly executed in real life because Noah is doing it in a way that is not pressuring [Allie]," she says, adding that some caregivers use flashcards with their loved ones which can add pressure for the patient.
"The idea of the reminiscing is beautiful because it focuses on long-term memory. So many people want to talk about what is happening in their lives right now and they get extremely upset when the person with dementia is not able to access it," says FitzPatrick.
Harewood says the themes from "The Notebook," both the smaller moments and bigger ones, are another reason the musical resonates with its audience each night.
"As my character says at the beginning of the show, it's a love story that will affect and will connect to every human being that comes to see it in one way or another," he said. "This happens because love is universal and this particular story about these two people who are in love is truly a universal story."
"The Notebook" is currently on stage at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre and has an open-ended run. 

'The Notebook' on Broadway — A Love Story That's Universal

Debra Wallace

Bread, bagels, baguettes, cream puffs, eclairs, Danish, pretzels, cupcakes, croissants and pizza. You name a type of baking, and chances are Brooklynite Ira Polly, 60, has taken a class in it. "My wife and I are empty nesters, and I want a hobby that I can turn to in the future when I retire from my job as a technologist," he explains. (He writes computer code for a major national bank.)
During the pandemic, it seemed like everyone took up baking sourdough bread. For many, the desire to bake continued even after they had returned to normal life.Baking is a good fit: "I like figuring out the chemistry of baking and watching the dough rise, and it gives me something to do with my hands." 
"Our instructors can work with you if you don't have a particular piece of equipment, you realize your pan size isn't quite right or you've run out of an ingredient."
Ironically, he doesn't care to eat most of his creations, but rather prefers to give them away to others. "I bake for the satisfaction and enjoyment of making something that I hope will look like it's from a store," he says.
Online Baking Schools 
During the pandemic, it seemed like everyone took up baking sourdough bread (next on Polly's list of classes to take) as a way to pass the time. For many, the desire to bake continued even after they had returned to their regular lives and jobs. 
Enter online baking classes: Whether you are looking for live classes that are streamed into your home or on-demand classes that are pre-recorded so you can watch them at your convenience, it's now easy to find a virtual course that fits your interests and allows you to create fantastic confections without leaving your home kitchen.
King Arthur Baking Company. The largest and most prominent online baking instruction site, the King Arthur Baking Company attracts about 6,000 virtual students a year — including Polly. Their in-person classes are also hugely popular, with 15,000 students attending annually at their Vermont and Washington State campuses.
"We have had an online baking program since 2020," says Amber Eisler, director of the Baking School. "We've found that going online makes our classes much more accessible because people can bake from their home kitchens but have the same level of access to our instructors." A wide array of baking topics is covered, from sweet treats, pies and breads, to savory chicken pot pies, ramen noodles and falafel. 
You'll receive a list of suggested equipment, supplies and ingredients when you sign up for a class, but don't worry if you don't have everything. "Our instructors can work with you if you don't have a particular piece of equipment, you realize your pan size isn't quite right or you've run out of an ingredient," says Eisler.
The format for classes is a "bake-along" on Zoom with two teachers and two cameras — one focused on the instructors and the other on the baking surface, she explains. The instructors lead a group of up to 24 students through a recipe. Just as if you were there in person, you can ask questions of the instructors and share visual images of your progress and results. On-demand classes are also available, and there are lots of free recipes and baking advice posted on the King Arthur website.
A rolling pin, baking pans and parchment paper are de rigueur.
Masterclass. Starting at just $10 a month, you can take as many on-demand baking courses on Masterclass as you like, led by master bakers, pastry chefs and chocolatiers. You can also view about 200 courses on a variety of other topics. Skillshare ($13.99/month plus) and Udemy ($20/month) are similar course aggregator websites that offer access to on-demand baking classes.
Christina Tosi Baking Class, Studio.com: Taking this immersive on-demand class ($249) from the award-winning pastry chef behind New York City's Milk Bar Bakery will help you become a more confident and creative baker over the course of a month. Plus, you'll gain access to three of Milk Bar's recipes. 
Molly J. Wilk's Online Pastry School. For $28/month or $280/year, you can tap into a growing video library of French pastry recipes. Membership includes one new pastry recipe a month and one live Q&A with American ex-pat Molly J. Wilk, who attended Le Cordon Bleu and now teaches virtually from her home in Versailles, France.
Zingerman's Bakehouse. This Michigan-based company offers live pastry, bread and cake classes online, along with baking kits that provide everything you need to make their recipes.
Baking Hacks 
To get great results, take note of these tips: 
Buy essential baking equipment. A rolling pin, baking pans and parchment paper are de rigueur. You can use regular measuring cups for baking if you like, although for more professional and precise results you may want to consider purchasing a digital scale to weigh your ingredients. You may also want to purchase a thermometer to place in your oven, and a stand mixer. You don't need a bread-maker, says Eisler, although you may want one.
"The instructors will tell you how to do something, but you have to experiment with your own oven and equipment." 
For people with arthritis in the hands, a French rolling pin that is thicker in the middle and tapers to the ends on either side may be a better choice than a traditional handled rolling pin because you don't have to grip the handles. French-style rolling pins also allow you put more weight in the center of the pin rather than on the outer handles, which is really where you want to be applying pressure to your dough. 
If you can't find the ingredients or equipment you need locally, King Arthur has an online baking store that can help you get ready for class. They also sell gluten-free and keto-friendly product lines.
Get to know your oven. Baking times can differ between gas and electric ovens, and opening and closing the doors can change the temperature.
Keep a diary of what you make and how you make it. You'll likely bake something more than once. "The instructors will tell you how to do something, but you have to experiment with your own oven and equipment," says Polly.
Call the King Arthur Baker's Hotline if you need help. The company runs a baking hotline at (855) 371-2253 staffed by real-life bakers for emergency and non-emergency baking calls. You can ask them anything from "Why won't my dough rise?" to "I've run out of certain ingredient — what can I substitute in?" and "what do I need to do if I'm baking at high altitude?"


How to Go to Baking School Without Leaving Home

Nancy Monson

It's my clear preference to travel alone, especially for big trips, the ones with oodles of things I want to do. I can avoid late starts because someone takes a long time getting ready or has the audacity to think vacations are for sleeping in.
The Godafoss waterfall in IcelandMy first solo trip to Iceland came in early January 2019. I didn't have to convince anyone it was a good idea to visit a place touting coldness in its name during the time of year it was covered in extended darkness. I had one goal: to see the northern lights. Darkness was integral to the plan.
Being an introvert, I chose to visit Iceland in late May, hoping to improve my chances of seeing the early birds while avoiding the crowds of people known to flock European destinations.
On the only night tour operators decided conditions were suitable, I boarded a bus and stood in a thin blanket of snow in empty fields miles from anywhere, staring at black sky. At one stop the guide casually said, "This would be the perfect place for a murder." There were no deaths, but no swirly streaks in the sky either. Goal unmet.
Strategically Timed Puffin Hunt
Nonetheless, I planned a return with a new goal: puffin pics. Images of these black-and-white sea birds with distinctive bright orange beaks and feet, had been as common as trolls and Vikings on T-shirts in the souvenir shops of Reykjavík, the capital and largest city. But puffins don't winter in Iceland. They spend eight months flying over the Atlantic before coming ashore in summer.
Being an introvert, I chose to visit Iceland in late May, hoping to improve my chances of seeing the early birds while avoiding the crowds of people known to flock European destinations.
I'd already completed the compulsory tourist agenda: the Blue Lagoon, a bus tour of The Golden Circle — Gullfoss (a waterfall), Strokkur (a geyser),  Þingvellir National Park (a valley walk between tectonic plates) — and, most memorable, a glacier hike at Sólheimajökull.
I had also loaded up on culture in the capital: nine museums, including the Punk Museum, housed fittingly in what once was a below-ground men's restroom.
Seeking Solitude on an Island
The bulk of this weeklong adventure would be in places where sheep, horses and hopefully puffins outnumbered humans. At the outset, I had decided I did not want to lose time on shopping and dining.
As a vegetarian, fish and chips were not a draw and, while geothermal hothouses grow vegetables, I was content to grab crispbread, skyr and other munchies in grocery chains like Hagkaup and Bónus.
Reykjavik, IcelandMy travels involved driving counterclockwise on the Ring Road (Route 1) along the country's perimeter but, only two hours from Reykjavík, I deviated, taking a ferry to the town of Vestmannaeyjar on the island of Heimaey.
Puffin Paradise Promised
On the ship, I nabbed a pamphlet touting the destination as having "THE LARGEST PUFFIN COLONY IN THE WORLD." Score! Once docked, I headed to what Google Maps marked as Puffin Lookout on the far end of the island, a mere nine-minute drive.
I walked a path to a wooden shelter providing protection from high winds but, alas, no puffin sightings. Along a cliff, I gazed at lush green landscapes, black-sand beaches and the deep blue ocean below. I saw countless gulls and flocks of sheep, with every ewe seeming to have a black or white lamb hop-running behind.
Closer to town, I walked the rim of Eldfell, a volcano that last erupted over six months in 1973, forcing the urgent evacuation of the island's 5,300 residents. The rust-red ground contrasted with the white houses of town.
The next morning, I ascended stairs and paths to Dalfjall, which AllTrails had the nerve to call a "hill." I walked the ridge as much as I dared. A five-minute drive brought me to the base of Heimaklettur ("Home Rock"). As I climbed, fierce winds shattered the screen of my mobile phone when my jacket pocket clanged against a steel ladder.
I stopped, ostensibly to snap photos of craggy rock formations piercing the ocean's surface, but really to let a local pass. I retreated, thankful to be alone, with no one to say, "Let's not" at the outset or bemoan my, "Let's stop" when my caution button sounded.
Free to Explore
Back on Ring Road, I committed to stopping as often as I wanted. The hours of extended light eliminated any pressure of reaching a night's stay before dark. I walked along Reynisfjara, a popular black-sand beach with a cliffside formed by jagged basalt slabs.
The view from Dalfjall, IcelandI then backtracked to walk the clifftops of the Dyrhólaey Peninsula, another purported puffin-palooza spot. I saw a sand beach extending forever toward the west, an austere white lighthouse and a rock arch jutting into the ocean, but no orange-beaked birdies. Only three hours from Reykjavík, crowds thinned dramatically hereafter.
I drove along the south coast to two glacier lagoons, Fjallsárlón and, 15 minutes east, Jökulsárlón. Icebergs populated both. In the latter, seals popped their heads above the surface as ice floes drifted through a waterway to the North Atlantic.
Few People, Fewer Puffins
The sun did not hit quite right for optimal photos, so I backtracked thirty miles the next morning for retakes, with no one riding shotgun mumbling, "Been there, done that."
I maintained a healthy concern over gasoline. The eastern half of the country is sparsely populated, Egilsstaðir being the largest town, with 2,500 residents. I topped up the tank wherever possible. Very few signs stated the distance to towns that popped up without warning. Restrooms were even rarer, the couple I found requiring the tap of a credit card to pay the 200 krónur (about $1.50) fee.
A basalt cliffside at Reynisfjara black beachI traveled for miles without seeing another vehicle. Occasionally, I wished I had someone to share the sights — "Can you believe this?!" — but it felt reverential letting the ever-changing landscape speak for itself. My contact with the rest of the world was limited to one radio station that broadcast extended Icelandic monologues between unknown pop songs.
Volcanoes, Active and Not
While volcanic eruptions sometimes make international headlines, there are plenty of inactive ones to explore. In the northeast, Hverfjall is a broad black volcano that begs a detour off Ring Road for a half-hour ascent yielding a panorama of nearby mountains and Lake Mývatn.
Nearby is Leirhnjúkur, considered an active volcano (though it's been 40 years since it last erupted). The rocky lava fields have easily walkable paths, allowing closer looks at the otherworldly landscape with steam continuing to escape from fissures. Viti, an explosion crater of the expansive Krafla caldera, is another quick climb, the reward being stunning views of the aquamarine-colored lake that fills it.
Waterfalls are commonplace. Any mountainside may offer narrow trickle, sometimes much more. At one point in eastern Iceland, I stopped to watch a small herd of reindeer near the shore. A 360-survey offered Iceland's greatest hits: ocean, beach, mountains and multiple waterfalls. It was so ridiculously beautiful, I laughed.
Godafoss is a must-stop in north-central Iceland, a broad waterfall interrupted in places by rocky sections which, according to legend, represent pagan statues tossed in when Iceland adopted Christianity.
Iceland's Second City
On my fourth night, I reached Akureyri (population 19,000) in north-central Iceland, the largest city outside the capital region. Come morning, I walked the city's center as a cruise ship navigated Eyjafjörður Fjord below snow-draped mountains. I snapped photographs of marine activity and oddities like knitted coverings for trash receptacles. I yearned for good coffee (which I found) but not conversation.
The Viti crater in the Krafla volcanic regionInstead, I strayed from Ring Road, driving an hour northeast among charming farms to Húsavík, a town renowned for whale watching opportunities. I gazed at the various whale watching vessels but opted out. Leaving town, I stopped at a sleek Nordic-styled viewing shelter I'd spotted on the way in. Puffins, I had read, made cameos in the area. Alone, I took in the vista, perfectly content even without glimpsing the elusive bird.
Throughout my visit, I couldn't shake the notion I should pack more into each day. Nature didn't offer a lights-out to signal turning in. Each night, I kept the windows unobstructed, frequently awakening as if to catch the skies gone dark. Didn't happen. On my final night before returning to Reykjavík, I drove from my cabin to the village of Hvammstangi at 12:30 a.m. to see a fjord view of what was technically sunset. Still, a degree of light lingered.
A 360-survey offered Iceland's greatest hits: ocean, beach, mountains and multiple waterfalls. It was so ridiculously beautiful, I laughed.
Trying a Puffin Tour Boat
On my last day beyond Reykjavík, my incredible trip felt slightly incomplete, still puffin-less. I opened my laptop and searched for puffin tours in the capital. Sure enough, there were one-hour sailings on an "old wooden boat," Skúlaskeið, from Old Harbor with "100% guaranteed" puffin sightings at two offshore islands. Ticket booked! The excursion required sharing space with 32 other people, but the tour guide's commentary filled the time until the captain cut the engine.
We watched in silence as hundreds of puffins floated on the water, flew above and nested on the islands' cliffs. We communicated in camera clicks, smiles and finger pointing as the birds' whirring calls provided a soundtrack.
With only my phone camera at hand, none of my shots proved frame-worthy. I pocketed it and watched in delight as the birds busied themselves, oblivious to our presence.
As things turned out, I didn't have to drive in one big loop around the island to get my puffin fix but, oh, what I would have missed.


Iceland for Introverts

Gregory Walters

Wherever I travel, I always visit the local library. Libraries are home to many books, of course, but it's often the library itself that holds the most compelling stories — giving an authentic sense of a place that the tourist attractions often don't.
Anne St. Onge, the director of the Mackinac Island Public Library, reads in front of the fireplaceMy favorite library is a small turquoise jewel, the Mackinac Island Public Library, located on carless (cars are banned) Mackinac Island in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. If awards were ever given for the most bewitching library, we've got a winner. This gem is painted varying shades of vibrant colors —inside walls are bright turquoise and quartz rose pink and the building's exterior is a robin's egg blue — and the views of Lake Huron from the windows are a scene-stealer.
My first and only visit to tiny Mackinac Island (it's about four-square miles) was about 25 years ago in late summer with my seven-year-old son. We enjoyed exploring Revolutionary War-era Fort Mackinac, eating fudge (the island is celebrated for its fudge), our many horse-drawn carriage rides and bicycling to explore the stunning island.
One afternoon, a bike ride took us serendipitously to Mackinac's little library. And it is there that I felt the island's heartbeat. I thought about the incredible significance that this library must have in the cold, long winter months. Most of the shops, restaurants and hotels are closed in the off-season — although there is a bar, Mustang Lounge, that stays open and has for years. 
"Mackinac Island's year-round population fluctuates but is around 492," says Anne St. Onge, director, Mackinac Public Library. "Cardholders include part-time residents, as well as year-round residents for a total of 693."
The library is basically one main reading room, with an antique chandelier that presides when the natural light isn't bathing those bright walls — that chandelier once hung in John Jacob Astor's mansion in Newport, Rhode Island. A smaller room, The Rosa Webb Room, holds the Mackinac Collection, a historic collection of everything Michigan; it is named for the woman who established Mackinac's first library.
My favorite library is a small turquoise jewel, the Mackinac Island Public Library.
Spoiler: "The back porch of the library is everyone's secret spot no one else knows about," says St. Onge. And there are Adirondack chairs there to sit and take in the lake view — and to read, of course.
I was particularly drawn to the library's fireplace, which roars with warmth when the temps don't soar — what a setting for a cozy read. The fireplace is adorned with tiles that are works of art, and above the fireplace is a Shakespeare quote from "The Tempest," which is set on a fairy isle, not unlike Mackinac. It reads, "The isle is full of noises, sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not."
Like many of the libraries I have visited on my many travels through the years, a free author series is presented, and frequent (sometimes permanent) used book sales — which is also a great secret. Why pack and lug vacation books if you can have fun selecting a couple at your destinations's local library?
"Visitors are not allowed to check out books so we offer a very large area of used books for sale, very popular," says St. Onge.
And, like most libraries, vacationers can participate in activities and programs — for children and adults. In summer, the Mackinac library hosts art shows, puppet shows, even a duct tape workshop, as well as guest presenters who cover many topics and issues including talks about the history of the island. "Visitors in the summer enjoy the many programs we offer," says St. Onge. "Families enjoy the children's area to take a break from the hustle and bustle of Main Street. The chess set is used multiple times a day."
"We even had a sleepover in the library in February three years in a row."
But it is those long winter months that captivated my imagination about the library's significance, especially for the children who live here. "School classes come to the library once a month, circumstances permitting," says St. Onge. "Also popular is Build-it-Day (Legos, cardboard and other building materials) for kids in the winter." In past years, the library also had a Peas in a Pod preschool program. And grade-schoolers also visit on Fridays in the wintertime for an after-school crafts program — cookies and hot cocoa are involved.
"We even had a sleepover in the library in February three years in a row," says St. Onge.
The library offers many of the same services of a mainland library — faxing, printing, copier, Wi-Fi and also subscribes to a few major newspapers (and two local) and 20 magazines, says St. Onge.
"So imagine sitting in the comfy chairs in front of a warm fire listening to the tick of the antique clock and crackle of the fire while you read or knit or, 'oh no, we have a snoring person again,'" says St. Onge. "It truly is a haven for those that visit."
History Lesson
Mackinac Island Public Library has been housed in several locations through the years.
"The first library on Mackinac Island (other than a small one in the Thomas Ferry School) was started in 1936 by the Daughters of the American Revolution (D.A.R.)," says St. Onge. "It was started in the Clerks Quarters, of the John Jacob Astor House by Mrs. Rosa R. Webb. That building was torn down in 1957 and the Post Office stands there now."
In 1992, the library's location relocated to its present spot. And another milestone has been technology. "The major change in the library was getting the internet and automated operating system, thus making the old card catalog obsolete," say St. Onge.
Tale of Another City
My second favorite library, the Boston Public Library, is another story entirely, namely because it's located in bright lights, big city Boston (everything being relative) and should be on every traveler's list when visiting the Massachusetts city.
The Boston Public Library (BPL), which debuted in 1848, pioneered the public library service in this country as the first large, free municipal library.
Not surprising in a city that revolutionized America, The Boston Public Library (BPL), which debuted in 1848, pioneered the public library service in this country as the first large, free municipal library; the first public library to lend books; the first to have a branch library; and the first to have a children's room.
And like Mackinac, the library has had several locations. The present Central Library in Copley Square has been home to the library and has served as its headquarters since 1895, when Charles Follen McKim built his 'palace for the people.'
"The BPL has hit many milestones throughout the years," says Bailey Watroba, senior public relations associate, BPL. "We are the first large free municipally funded library in the country. Additionally, in 1870 we opened the first branch library in the United States in East Boston. Today, 26 branches serve the 670,000 residents of the city of Boston. We are also the first library to have a dedicated children's room."
It is the library's lovely courtyard, which opened in 1895, that steals my heart — and many hours of my time — whenever I visit. It is a beauty, with a centerpiece fountain. In fact, in 1986, the National Park Service designated the McKim building a National Historic Landmark, citing it as "the first outstanding example of Renaissance Beaux-Arts Classicism in America with murals by John Singer Sargent and other celebrated artists.
It has also been an unofficial campus for many of the city's urban colleges through the decades. It still is, as well as for "lifelong learners," says Watroba.
"Today's libraries are thriving epicenters of civic engagement."
"When travelers come to the Boston Public Library, they aren't just coming to see a beautiful, historical building," says Watroba, "the experience should also leave them feeling heartened that today's libraries are thriving epicenters of civic engagement."
Likewise, the experience of visiting any local library when traveling — whether it be located on a tiny, carless island or in a big town like Boston — also enriches visitors with local history, culture and a spiritual connection to a place that trolley tours and shiny tourist attractions don't always impart.


Book It

Laurie Bain Wilson

She's moving to Brooklyn. That's only 25 miles away from my home in New Jersey. But what with the bus and subway rides that will now be required for us to settle in one or the other's living room over tea (she favors caffeinated, I need herbal) and scones (she likes raisin, I like chocolate chip), it feels like she's moving a million miles away.
"After my husband died, she was the friend who dropped in daily to check up on me and took me, in the blur of new widowhood, to and from my scheduled colonoscopy."Loss packs all kinds of wallops. Certainly, compared with big ticket items like loss of mobility, loss of faculties, loss of acuity, loss of life, this is a small one. Yet the fact that she's moving feels huge.
Those kinds of life-upending moments, thankfully few and far between, have proved that ours is a friendship that both of us can count on.
Over the decades of our friendship, close proximity has been key. When I needed to rush my first husband to the hospital in the middle of the night, she was the person I called to come stay with my young daughter. Never mind that it was around 2 a.m. when I woke her. She was at my door within minutes.
After my husband died, she was the friend who dropped in daily to check up on me and took me, in the blur of new widowhood, to and from my scheduled colonoscopy.
When she learned that her father's health was failing fast, I was able to get to the local hospital in time to be by her side when he passed.
A Friendship to Count On 
When she learned that her marriage had taken an unsettling turn, I was able to rush over to her place with a bottle of wine, a bar of her favorite chocolate and words of commiseration. Two years later, I drove her to court to finalize her divorce.
Those kinds of life-upending moments, thankfully few and far between, have proved that ours is a friendship that both of us can count on. If she needs me, or vice versa, I am certain both of us are willing to make the commute that hypothetically should take 47 minutes (a MapQuest fantasy), but is likely to take more than two hours, given the unreliability of bus schedules, the unpredictability of road traffic and the virtual non-existence of quick subway connections.
That trek, however, is now a formidable barrier to the breezier, less consequential get-togethers that have enabled us to know the ins and outs of each other's daily lives. We'll no longer be able to loan each other books. Snag each other for a quick lunch. Take our walk-and-talks around local parks, our wandering conversations filled with the sorts of minutiae and details that make us an active presence in and witness to each other's lives.
 We'll no longer be able to loan each other books. Snag each other for a quick lunch.
Through the decades, I've managed to maintain precious relationships over great distances. After my undergraduate years, I continued college friendships by letter. (Remember those?) While long-distance phone calls were beyond our meager budgets, a stamp was affordable (or, at least it was back then).
In time, email and texting helped ease distances. But they also helped shrink the content of the communications. It's so much easier to toss off a quick, mispunctuated text then to have a meaningful conversation. And it's not like you schedule probing conversations. They arise out of circumstance. Proximity. Being together, sharing the small stuff that may lead to the bigger stuff that may require a second cup of tea and a box of Kleenex.
As we age, it's inevitable that friends we've made in our immediate proximity will move away. After our kids move out, the house that once felt too small begins to echo with emptiness. Soon, more and more of those in our cohort are off to smaller units in more hospitable climates. Down the road, perhaps there's another move, this one to an assisted living community or a location closer to our kids. As addresses change, friendships get lost.
As we age, it's inevitable that friends we've made in our immediate proximity will move away.
I've long felt that friends fall into two categories. There are those friendships I think of as "situational." Those are the people we befriend in our work place, our yoga class, our town. When the situation alters — we change our place of employment, we move to a different yoga studio, we relocate to a different town — the binding element evaporates.
Yes, of course, we pledge to stay in touch. Initially, we may even make an effort to see each other. But quickly we learn that absent what we had in common — our mutual obsession with office politics; our weekly dissections of the yoga class; the ongoing debate about leaf blowers —conversation requires more of an effort. In time, even the strongest of such relationships tend to drift away.
My 'Real' Friends 
The relationships that transcend situation are the people I think of as my "real" friends. They are rarer, more special, impossible to replace. No matter where we might go and what life may deal us, these relationships remain intact. These are the ones where we both know texting won't do. Where we both know that we need to schedule a phone call or a visit. These are the ones where our conversation picks up right where we left off the last time, the level of intimacy and interest undiminished.
Even so, absent close proximity, it's rarely the same. At a remove, I never know what to make of the extraneous noise filtering through the phone line. Is my friend dodging traffic while we talk? Making dinner? Mouthing words to the person I hear in the background? Am I catching my friend at an inconvenient time? Is he or she really in this conversation or in a hurry to get off? Is this phone call little more than a multitasking chore to be checked off a busy to-do list?
When I'm in a shared space with a friend — across a dinner table, in their home, walking beside them — I can read if our conversation has their full attention.
When I'm in a shared space with a friend — across a dinner table, in their home, walking beside them— I can read if our conversation has their full attention. I can see their confusion about or interest in something I've said. Gather from their facial expressions, if not their words, when they're upset about something. Sense whether the signal is to leave the matter alone or gently probe. Whatever it is, I know that, by choice, we're in the moment together, building on our long history of caring, concern and trust. 
On a visit to my friend's soon-to-be ex-home, I encounter accumulating boxes of items she plans to donate, give away or throw away. I am confident that our friendship is one of the real ones that will endure, not a situational one that will eventually land in the discard pile. Still, seeing evidence of her decampment makes me ache.
When she first began talking about moving five years ago, I offered support but also allowed myself to say that I hoped she wasn't leaving anytime soon. That I was going to miss her. 
Now, with her relocation just a month away, I tell her only that it's wonderful that she's found a Brooklyn apartment that meets her needs. That it's wonderful that she'll now live closer to her daughter and grandchild. That, yes, of course I'll meet her in Manhattan for shows.
I also tell her, We're going to have to develop a phone habit.
I know, she replies.
Though we smile reassurance at each other, she knows as well as I do that it won't be the same.


When a Close Friend Moves Away

Jill Smolowe

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