Nine years ago at age 86, I moved into The Terrace. Still mobil, no senality, but it was time and I was tired. A mother of eight kids, now widowed, I sold my two pianos and moved into the only open apartment. (It looked Iris Park!) I had been a private piano teacher, church choir director, public school music and drama teacher, composer, and always involved in community theater. Time to hang up the tap shoes with other ancient Episcopalians.

In my nine years here I have had the pleasure of the company of lots of clergy, college professors, and other educators and retirees. The home keeps a busy social schedule and allowed me to add what was missing: pot luck suppers on odd holidays, Christmas parties, and an annual strawberry festival. I wrote a play for the seniors interesed. Besides singing with the Sage Singers and participating in their cabarets, I play brindge, cribbage and scrabble. I also plat the Steinway grand on my floor.

I was tired when I moved in. I'm dead tired now, but I simply don't have time to die - I like it here.