One of the craziest things about getting older is that only your exterior ages. Inside you still have the heart of a child. Games and stories and friendly people still delight you. Nature and all its glory still stirs your soul as your five senses grasp its multifaceted displays. The soft stillness of a sunrise, the flaming dramatic sunset, the warm summer rain, the crisp clean grip of a cold winter day, the smell of woodsmoke on an Autumn stroll - you loved these things as a child and you love them still. I remember clearly how I regarded my in-laws when Bing and I were in our twenties. I thought they were old. They were in their mid fifties. When we made it to 50, we were astonished to see that the fifties are still young and you feel no older than before. Now it seems that a period of twenty years is about the gap that makes you think a certain age is elderly. In the 40's, anyone 60 or older, in your fifties, anyone in the seventies. Now at age 70, I still look at those in their nineties as quite old. But gradually I'm learning that age doesn't mean much.. Those in their 70's, 80's and 90's still love the little things of life - games and stories and friendly people. My little secret is sledding. We live in a place where no neighbors can see me whiz down the hill to the lake. I love it. It tickles my inner soul to feel the rush of wind as I pick up speed on my own personal luge chute. I love the workout of climbing back up the hill and starting all over again. I love the cold cold air on my warm warm cheeks. I feel young and specially blessed.