I remember being 11 years old, living in New England. The winters were long and snowy, and all my friends knew how to ski. But not me. Why don't we send you for ski lessons, my mother said. No, I said. I can't, I said. But why? my mother asked. Because I'm too old, I replied.
And I believed it.
But of course, of course, I was wrong. Because really, it's never to late. For anything. {Did I mention that my 78 year old father is leaving for Cambodia? He's going on an expedition to retrace the journey of the explorer who rediscovered Ankgor Wat.}
The big and small. The simple and sublime. It's never, never too late.
Ah, oyster shooters, this Summer. For the very first time.
