1972 was not the simple life for me. By November, I had a beautiful new daughter and an almost three year old son. But the year itself was a nightmare. I had to quit my job because of morning sickness and migraines. We moved to a falling-down old house...across the street from my ex-husband's parents. (That's a whole 'nother story)

I didn't have a car, so I was stuck in the house alll day with my toddler, my morning sickness, the carpenter ants, bats and maggots. I nearly miscarried several times, and became aware that I was married to a man who didn't love me (duh, but I was 22).

I sat up in bed most of the night trying to keep the heartburn at bay, and having horrific nightmares when I did sleep. We seldom had hot water, the septic backed up, and it was so cold that the water in the cat dish would freeze overnight. The walls were insulated with old newspapers and bat guano.

I would say 1962 was my last "simple" year. I was twelve, and the world was my oyster. My friend Millie's mother would take us to Lake Sunapee in the summer where we could swim and giggle and daydream.

The next year I watched on television as the news unfolded that four little girls were murdered in a church bombing in Birmingham, and for the first time in my life I understood that there were people mean enough to hurt a young, innocent person for no reason other than meanness. I realized that someone could hurt ME!! After that, life wasn't simple anymore.

Sorry, Cindy. I'll do halcyon days when I'm in a better frame of mind.