For more than 50 years I was a working woman, and for more than half of that time I lived life in the fast lane.
This May I retired from a 27-yearlong career in communications. Ever since then I've been pumping the brakes, taking most of the summer to experience life under the "speed limit" that has become expected in our modern society.
I started at 15 years old as an assistant at a daycare center across from my high school. I enjoyed that job because I spent time around young children, preparing and sharing after-nap snacks with them, reading, painting, playing with random toys and keeping them from bodily harm on the daycare's playground.
I was paid 50 cents and hour. YES. 50 CENTS an hour. Eventually, after about a year, I requested a raise and was bumped to $1.00 an hour. I felt so rich! Just for a little perspective: In 1973 (when I was 15), a gallon of gasoline was around 39 cents. A gallon of milk would cost you around $1.40 and eggs were, 69 cents a dozenA. The average price of a new car in 1973 a $3,200. So
