In two days, I will have traveled around the sun 30 times. It's hard to believe I'm turning 30 - I still feel 23. But I firmly believe that my fourth decade will be better than my third - and the third was pretty darn good.

I saw someone post, in honor of their 32nd birthday, 32 things they've had the chance to do. Here is my list of 30 things I've done in (almost) 30 years:

Seen the Northern Lights. Eaten escargot near Le Sacre Coure in Paris. Taught Children's Sunday School. Played A Mighty Fortress with a full orchestra at St. Mary's Cathedral in Krakow, Poland. Ran over a cat. Rode around Owatonna in a limo. Rode the Eurostar (Chunnel Train). Been to Auschwitz. Stayed up all night. Co-captained an intramural wiffleball team. (We were 0-4!) Learned Chinese. (And promptly forgot it!) Stayed at a five-star resort. Canoed and camped in the Boundary Waters. Stood on the Prime Meridian in Greenwich. Been pulled over twice. Been hanggliding. Been to the top of: The Space Needle, The Eiffel Tower and The Gateway Arch. Baptized a girl who was in my Sunday School class. Lived with a total of 15+ different roommates which include a girl from Japan, a divorced man and a high school student from France. Ate duck at a sidewalk cafe in Prague. Biked in the Canadian Rockies. Became an aunt. Stayed with family in Ukraine. Dined with a baron in his castle, Schloss Weitenburg, in Germany. Learned to play guitar. Survived a fall through ice! Been on the front page of the paper. (I was 11.) Seen a grizzly bear and a moose in the wild. Gotten two stitches. Flown over the Atlantic 10 times, but have never seen it close-up. (This will have to wait till I'm 30.)

Grocery Stories and Other Tales No. 1

I love encounters with strangers. I also love to eavesdrop.

The following happened a couple weeks ago:

I was at CashWise picking up a few groceries. I was looking at magazines when a nice, but rough, looking woman, probably in her 40s, started looking at the books.

I had a feeling she was going to say something to me - and she did. She asked about a book. She couldn't remember the author, but it was a biography about the Mamas and the Papas: High on Arrival. I helped her look, but they didn't have it.

I went to check out, and she was ahead of me, getting ready to pay, and already had a cigarette in her mouth. She took it out to ask if it was the 11th or the 12th and the cashier and I both said it was the 10th. She cursed under her breath (I think) and said, "No wonder. I don't get food stamps till the 11th." I offered to pay - her total was $4.08 - but she declined and hurried out.

When Mercy Seasons Justice

It happened on a hazy Sunday afternoon in June. Sunday afternoons are an opportune time for naps, but I wasn't tired on this particular Sunday afternoon. I was inspired. Inspired to solve a puzzle and locate a cache in the Village of Yesteryear. Nevermind that the cache hadn't been found since January - I was going to find it.

I grab my newly assembled geocaching bag and head southeast. I'm driving through the Austin Road/Grove Avenue/Havana Road intersection as the Matt Wertz song, Everything's Right, drifts over the airwaves. Yeah, I think, everything's right. I turn up the volume as I notice a squad car approaching. I glance at my spedometer. Hm, 33 or 34 MPH. I slow down. I've met squad cars before while going a few MPHs over the speed limit with no incident. But, as I glance in my rearview mirror, I can see there will be an incident today.

As the squad car makes a U-turn, my stomach sinks. When the lights begin to flash, I know there's no escaping my fate. I had never been pulled over before, but I determine to play it cool. I turn down the volume as the officer approaches. We're both employed by the City of O-, but, thankfully, I don't recognize him.

"Good evening, M'am. Do you have any idea why I'm pulling you over today?"

"Uhhh, I think I was going a little over the speed limit." I know.

"And how fast do you think you were going?"

"33 or 34 MPHs," I answer, unwaveringly.

"I have you clocked at 37."

"Really?" I honestly didn't realize...

"I also noticed as you were pulling over that your right brake light is out."

"I didn't know."

"Most people don't."

He asks for my license and proof of insurance, which, to my chagrin, is an old card. Apparently I hadn't replaced them, since April.

That's three strikes against me. He says he'll have me on my way in a few minutes. I wait as he checks my license, wondering how much 37 in a 30 is going to cost me. Not to mention the brake light, and is there a charge for not having up-to-date proof of insurance?

I wait as traffic passes me by. Yep, I broke the law. I am an offender. And everyone can plainly see.

Finally, the officer reappears.

"Well, I'm going to let you go today."

Are you serious?

"I'm just going to ask you to replace your insurance card, replace the brake light and slow down."

Oh? That's it?

As he headed to his squad car, he turned back, smiled, and added, "Have a nice night!"

And, despite the fact that I didn't find the geocache I was seeking, I did.

Post No. 001

Welcome to Flora Hill Press: Life in Stories.

I don't have much time to post at present, but will hopefully be able to soon.

KK