Hey, Trader Joe’s, won’t you be my neighbor.

A vacant Office Depot building with plump parking sits lonely, abandoned, begging for some savvy merchant to turn on the lights, cue the music, and fill the void with staff and customers.

The site is at the corner of Orleans St. and Grand Ave.in Chicago’s River North neighborhood.

I’m reaching out to corporate Trader Joe’s to lease this property, which marvelously is just a few blocks from my apartment. In my dream world I would see myself shopping daily like Europeans who visit a butcher, a greengrocer, a cheese shop, or a wine merchant.

Jan. 30, 2023: On your 110 birthday Mom, I’m gifting my apologies.

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry it has taken me so long to write this.

I’m not sure why I waited until your 110th birthday to offer my apologizes. Perhaps I had to reach old age myself to realize I had maligned you.

This is my birthday gift; It’s way overdue. I want to apologize for slights sent your way in my writing. And ask forgiveness for making Dad the heroic figure and you, ofttimes the villain.

Older women should shift from purse to backpack.  The switch can ease anxiety and offer a welcome hug.

 Older women who live alone are not the target audience for manufacturers of backpacks. Advertisements typically sport young men and women using the bag for hikes or for toting a computer.

But I am obsessed with this utilitarian bag and believe women around my age -- I am 84 -- who are their own caretakers would benefit from tossing their purses and strapping on a backpack. Here are some reasons why:

Some commotion in the kitchen woke me. Surprisingly, the sounds didn’t rouse Doris. My dog remained flat on the bed, sweetly snoring.

If she couldn’t hear it, with the superior hearing ascribed to her breed, perhaps I was imagining it.

I didn’t turn on the kitchen light for fear that would startle Doris and launch her barking. But there was enough glow coming from my apartment’s floor-to-ceiling windows to steer me toward the sound.