I have always wanted to write. As a child, I told myself stories, in the dark, in the night - to help myself sleep. Many children day dreamed. I night dreamed. One day I would write. One day I would be a famous published author, one day I would live in a white house on a cliff above the ocean - and I would write, and write, and write. Some 55 years later - I still want to write - and sadly - it is still a dream.
My son introduced me to the concept of blogging at least 8 years ago. I signed up - but never wrote a word. I forgot where it was and how to do it.
Six months ago, I looked at retirement - and at last I would have time to write. A conversation with a friend again brought up the blog. I filed it -
and went back to work - which produces money but no joy.
And now, today, the work is finished, the money is spent and again I look into the eyes of tomorrow.
If I cant write a best seller - the least I can do is start a blog.
So - to you Owen and to you Lynda - my first blog - with love.
