Fall is my favorite time of year, so I was somewhat dismayed that winter seems to be in such a hurry. Getting our spuds dug up seemed prudent as there was 2-3 inches of snow forecast. Sunday afternoon I spent my time digging, scooping and such but realized that I couldn’t lift the trays when they were full. Fortunately my teenager was nearby and when I asked for help, it was cheerfully given. It’s not a passing of the torch, far from it, but for the first time I realized the day will come. Right now, I hold the torch proudly when I help my disabled Mom. Sandwich Generation? You bet, but I am also so grateful for those who are before me and those who will follow.

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