My mulberry trees have been my place of refuge. From May through July, I work three different harvest cycles, twice a day, bringing in feasts of purple, black and red. Each tree is a therapy pal, whose leaves listen to my every thought.

I never expected my 24-year-old son to move back in with us.  He barely came home over summers once he started college. But he is part of a whole generation of "boomerang kids."  He's driven, focused, and living at home.  This is my account of "how it's going."