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With menopause, bunions and a bad knee… I’m having enough trouble with 58. Screw 200.

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I’ve flown out of Boston’s Logan airport many times. Three weeks doesn’t seem out of the realm of possibility.

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I’m sorry, but that just bites.

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Finally… a scientific formula for choosing vacation destinations.

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I call foul.

I am neither loud nor boisterous, and am literally risk aversive. But Rome? I’m good with that. History, pasta and Limoncello sound like my kind of trip.

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I love my state. We have a festival devoted to clams and award those who can shuck them the fastest.

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