Woke up so groggy, puffed and blur eyed, from an allergic reaction. Soon enough, recovered enough to see the gorgeous blue sky. And my daughter had been already up and out with the dogs. So, I hopped on my bike and whizzed down the highway toward Medfield in a fantastic hot blissful July morning. I rode back roads for an hour, stopped at the old Medfield Stat hospital grounds, whizzed past the walkers and dogs and went by the river where the flowers bloom and the milkweed has grown its tight green pods filling with seeds for the fall. Later in the morning, my younger daughter had a True Story Theater family event on Zoom, and so my husband and I attended. It was an important rite of passage for her: her first time co-conducting a show, as well as acting in it. There were families with small children and there were some grown ups, some grandparents, from in and out of the country. Well, it was very emotional for me. She did a fine, exceptional job, and I was proud–and nostalgic. It really took me back and hit me: here she is, conducing playback theater for a wonderful troupe that she’s a member of. And I thought about where she started. My impulse to gather a group of her friends and introduce them to playback theater. We formed The Red Suitcase Players, and rehearsed regularly and even put on a public show with th seniors in town. What a sweet time in my life. I had a vision that she would make a talented playback actor some day. And now she is doing this work in the world, and I got to watch her conduct a playback for young boy and also a grandfather. And I got to see the impact on their faces, on all of our faces. A pretty remarkable day. In the late afternoon, Frank and I went to my friend’s dock. I swam around the island with the sun in my eyes. Bliss.