Cassina Farley

I recently got my first piece of mail addressed to me from the AARP, offering discounts on drugs, eyeglasses and car rentals. I looked down at my SpongeBob socks and thought, “What else can I get away with now that I’m 50?”

Why would anyone move away from Patagonia?

I quit drinking a year and a half ago. It turns out I didn’t miss the booze. The funny thing is other people did.

Every night we would get up, go outside and try in vain to remove the skunk from the chicken pen and every morning we’d try to figure out how the little SOB got in. By the end of the week I was more than a little sleep deprived and just a little bit crazy. 

It’s a tough time to be a nostalgic person.

You never know how the outside world sees you—and never is this more apparent than when you receive a gift. 

When we met in our 20s, we nursed each other’s hangovers. Now I’m buying orthopedic socks for my beloved.

My dad, the hunter, dragged us little girls through some of the roughest terrain in Santa Cruz County in search of the elusive white tail buck. We had to keep up and not complain.