My New Favorite Picture of Samantha

I remember reading A Tale of Two Cities as a high school sophomore, and at that time, our English teacher--an excellent one with an incredible sense of humor--told us how fascinating one particular line of the book was for an opener.

She was serious when we discussed "the best of times" and "the worst of times," and although I didn't understand what a big deal it was then, I certainly do now.

And more importantly, after the summer of 2010, I understand it even more clearly than ever.

One thing for sure, "the best of times" included moments like this one with each of our four grandchildren, and it included visits from my son, even if it was only a few days, and from my daughter. Lydia stayed for three fabulous weeks, but ironically, the weeks went by so quickly, that it almost seemed to be only a few days.

I remember my dad. He never ceased to coax me to stay another day, whenever I was home from college. It worked, even though it was difficult to get back to classes on time, and that was when my school was a two hour drive away, at least under normal conditions.

That was also the best of times. There were no radar guns for officers to monitor car speeds, so I could make the trip in 90 minutes on a good day without any bad weather to make the road slick. Gas was cheap. And I was young. It's that time, when you think you're invincible. I never thought about the dangers of driving like the young crazy generation of today, but I probably drove as recklessly as the worst I see on the road any given day.

All things considered, the times this summer with family were still the "best of times." They were moments that will always make me smile, although some of those drives in late '71 and early '72 were kind of fun too.

But there have been some awful things too. I wish it didn't happen like that, but life takes strange twists and turns. At least it wasn't like the mid 80's for me.

I had a year where I had surgery. Two former students hit me in separate driving accidents, one incident bent the frame on our car just after I had the engine redone. That one was dangerous. A student "T-boned" me in the car after he ran a stop sign. The second one "side-swiped" me on a rural road, damaging the entire length of my car from bumper to bumper.

During one year, my principal manipulated me into adopting this impossible set of rules. The punishment for any infraction was severe. And contrary to what I had been told, the board not only didn't want it, but they preferred the way I dealt with problems. I sent two students home that year. In a small town, that is not a positive thing--especially when one is related.

I had two brushes with near accidents on the farm, one involving a huge door of a shed and another with a rattlesnake in that same shed on the same day.

And my dad's doctors diagnosed his colon cancer. That was a horrific year. I had another one like that in the 80's too.

It's been a tough summer.