I go in every day to the office. I don't accomplish hardly anything. I mean, in terms of – it just takes me way longer to do things. And Greg is so good. It was kind of embarrassing how good he is, because he has covered – you know, we've got about 200 businesses within Berkshire, you know, that came about, and I can't name the manager's names or their wives names, or – and I haven't seen them, you know, in a long time. It's easier just to write the letter once a year and kind of do my own thing. Greg covers more ground in a day than I would in a week, even when I was at my peak, let alone my present condition.

I am genuinely buzzed about it! I think we just keep getting better, smarter, wiser, truer, happier.

Becoming invisible.

I’ve been very fortunate in that respect. In the early days I liked to be the bomb of the expedition, and rush on ahead and do things faster than anybody else. Those days merged very pleasantly into periods when I organized and inspired expeditions and selected these younger people who were then the bombs of the operation. And then it drifted into this involvement with the people of the area, still loving the mountains, but finding the people just as important too. And on and on it’s gone. As I get older and less physically capable, I find other challenges have grown up and become just as important to me.

I lived in New York during 9/11 and worked a couple of blocks away from the twin towers. I was looking when the first tower exploded and then when the second plane flew in and, before we had to evacuate, I did see people jump to their death.

Compulsory headphones for phone users in public.

Like a very full heart and a flip in my stomach when I see him.

I’m at my happiest in the ocean, and even better if my husband is there throwing me around.

I think we become stars.

Losing my husband. We are properly codependent.