This past week I spent one very nostaglic week in the area where I grew up in rural Iowa (with my family). I was able to show my children (and my husband) where I attended grade school and high school . . . the hills I used to sled down in winter . . . the swimming pool where I won boxes of blue ribbons . . . the parks I played in . . . the location where I ate ice cream . . . where my old house used to stand (it has since been demolished for condos) . . . my old church where I was baptized and received my first communion . . . and many, many more old haunts.