In Jeannette Walls' book, Half Broke Horses, she recounts the life of her grandmother. The historical memoir recounts life in Texas and Arizona during the early 1900s.

Drawn to this book by the prequel, The Glass Castle, it recounts the remarkable life of a woman who would not be defeated by the ruts and storms of life. Time after time through events that might have derailed the strongest of us, Walls' grandmother adjusted and moved forward, refusing to wallow in self-pity due to the unfairness of life or people, always moving in some sort of forward motion with confidence and hope.

It is hope that provides the fuel for moving on, moving beyond or over whatever event has determined to derail our dreams.

Half Broke Horses begins with a harrowing event with three children caught in a notorious west Texas flash flood, clinging to the upper limbs of a tree for safety during a long night until the water receded. When the mother declares that it was her prayers all night for her children that saved them, the author's grandmother remarks, mostly to herself, that she herself had a whole lot more to do with saving her brother and sister than God did.

If you are at all into books, this would be a good one to pick up. It will make you grateful. It will make you determined. For what, you'll have to decide, but it is no story for the 'poor me, life owes me a living' crowd.

And that's what I think about it.

What happened to....

What happened to those convenient metal ice trays? In the 50s it was the only way to have ice cubes at the ready. No one I knew had an automatic ice maker or through-the-door ice dispenser.

The metal handle could be pulled up with a sound of cracking, loosening ice making removal easy. Stackable trays made storage in the freezer efficient. A plastic tub was often used to dump cubes in so that additional ice could be made.

One problem? No one ever filled up the trays, at least not until all the trays were empty and no more ice was available. Or the same person, like the youngest kid in the family, always had to fill up the trays, like it was the duty of every baby of the family to have this in their job description.

In the summer, cubes made from Kool-Aid were a delight. If you had sticks, you made frozen Popsicle treats then you took them outside to slurp on because they dripped like crazy and if there was a little breeze you had to stand just the right way so the spray didn't fly back on your clothes...not that you cared, but your mom did. Sometimes the stick came out but the Popsicle didn't. That usually happened when you didn't wait long enough for the water to solidify.

You can't do that with a side-by-side two-door refrigerator/freezer with an automatic ice maker and through-the-door ice and water service.

And that's what I think about it.

Four hundred artisans under one roof. Two great friends with whom to enjoy Winterfair, the biggest art expo in the Midwest. One suite of rooms. Three nights, adjacent to the largest shopping mall in central Ohio with five anchor stores. Laughter, buying, trying on, more laughter, eating, catching up...we were made for this. It is the one time a year that the car trunk just isn't big enough. I drive five hours to meet them; they drive to this capital city after work and we meet for dinner to catch up and begin our weekend.

My two friends and I worked together back in the days. We had the best times then and loved the planning, programming and public relations that went along with our jobs. On paper I was their boss; in reality, we lived a decade of shared responsibilities...they made me look good to my own boss.

Instead of going over the hour by hour, play by play of the long weekend, our semi-annual retreat, I want to reflect on what their friendship, and by extension other friendships, mean.

"We cannot tell the precise moment when a friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, There is at last one drop that makes it run over. So in a series of kindness there is at last one drop that makes the heart run over," someone has penned. When did our friendship begin.

At first our jobs would take us around the country looking at sites at different hospitals. Then, at some point, we decided that since we were all about to celebrate 'decade birthdays' (40, 50 and 60 - you know which decade I was celebrating), a whale watch off Cape Cod was in order. That three-day journey to Massachusetts opened up a wider world to us and found us in Ireland, China, Australia, Greece, Turkey and New Zealand. Oh did we party on those trips...and shop...and sight-see. Looking through albums of those trips is an instant re-vacation and stress reducer, a retreat from the snow and cold of southern Indiana and northern Ohio.

We have celebrated graduations, weddings, birthdays, new homes, children leaving same, all the life markers that have welded us together, including a friends' death.

Understanding that goes beyond words; connectedness that goes beyond distance; friendship that goes beyond time. Bittersweet parting is soon replaced by the anticipation of the next time we'll be together.

It is good to have friends. It is vital. And that's what I think about it.

In Pueblo County, Colorado a springer spaniel who was training to become a hunting dog, fell 80 feet over a cliff and landed on a remote ledge. Unable to rescue the animal, named Doc, because of darkness, rescuers lowered blankets to Doc to protect him and make him comfortable for the long, cold Colorado night.

Does a dog automatically know how to unfold a blanket and cover up?

The next morning rescuers rappelled down the side of the cliff and brought Doc up to his owners.

I would guess that the owners are now reconsidering what sort of hunting Doc will do, perhaps not in the hills but on flatter ground; perhaps duck hunting. Can Doc swim? Rescue workers from the Coast Guard should be on hand to watch that training.

And that's what I think about it.