I am a week into my latest attack of low-back muscle spasms and definitely not having fun yet. The cats are still engaged in low-intensity conflict despite Feli-Way pheromone treatment since Tuesday. But the sun is shining today for a change, so I think it’s time for me to buck up and make an effort to be normal.

Stilly, it occurs to me that you and I had very similar starts in adult life, bashing our way into highly physical work in male-dominated fields, you in forestry and I in the armed forces. I think we both also found our way into work that was not only more woman-friendly (at least ostensibly) but also more intellectually satisfying, in academia and editorial shops respectively, while watching younger women flow into the work cultures we left and change them utterly. When asked “What was it like?” about my military years, I usually say something to the effect that a life on the cutting edge of social change can be painful …

It’s almost time to pack up the stuff stacked in the basement and take the lot — probably three large bags full — to Goodwill. By the time my back is ready for the challenge, we’ll be past Indian Summer and into the chill of autumn sliding toward winter, and the sweaters and lined jeans in those bags will be more attractive.