When I initially started blogging, my intention was to focus on climbing out of my rut by trying new activities and new restaurants. I wanted to encourage others to do the same. While I hope that I have done that to some small degree, I realize that my posts have been more like a crazy quilt, pieced together randomly. It’s how my mind works these days. I’ve tried to include the “fifty first experiences the year I turned fifty” but, the truth is, some of the list really isn’t all that memorable. I’ve decided just to throw the remainder of the list into two messy posts and be done with it.

• #31 I shot a .357 Magnum handgun. I did manage to hit the tree I was aiming at but I didn’t like the experience. The power behind that gunshot scared me.
• #32-33 I met with a dietician and an exercise physiologist as part of a wellness program. They were great but I lacked motivation and they were not permitted to use a cattle prod.
• #34 I bought a fern. I killed a fern. Maybe that should have counted as two first time experiences.
• #35 I went to the Chicamacomico Life Saving Station Historic Site on Hatteras Island. The only thing I can remember about the experience is how to spell it. I’ve always been good at spelling.
• #36 I watched fish being cleaned at the Oregon Inlet Fishing Center. Fish guts. An activity that’s a few steps beyond normal, for sure, especially since they weren’t even my fish.
• #37 I attended a Baptist Church. I know there are differences between all the Protestant denominations, but the services are remarkably similar and the old hymns are the same. They speak the same language, whatever the doctrine.
• #38-40 I took Maizzie, our dog at the time, to the beach, and laughed uproariously while watching her chase ghost crabs in the sand. I later took her camping for the first time and she insisted on sharing my sleeping bag. Once I realized it was the sleeping bag she was interested in and not me, I surrendered all things down and at least one of us slept well.