As you might have ascertained from this post’s very blunt title, it is about, shall we say, extended singlehood. Far be it from me to brag, but singlehood is a topic I feel relatively equipped to write about since I have been single for the vast majority of my 35 years on this earth. Whether you are in the single lady boat with me or a hitched lady of 5, 10, 20, or 30 years, I hope you keep reading. Not because my single life is extraordinary, but because, in fact, it is utterly ordinary. But sometimes (most of the time) we can learn good things from the ordinary, so here goes . . . . If you were to have told me when I was 25 that I would be single at 35 I’m not sure what I would have done. Cried. Laughed in disbelief perhaps. Like many woman, it wasn’t part of my grand plan to be single at this stage in my life’s journey. In fact, my anticipated route through life was as follows: be married by my mid-to-late twenties with a frolicking band of kiddos by 35. I’d homeschool and garden and raise chickens on our little country …