When I was in high school, I felt destined to be a writer. I've always loved books and could spend hours, days, maybe even weeks in my hammock with a good book and a bag of sunflower seeds. It's one of those joys I discovered early on in my life and seem to just keep returning to at different seasons of my life.
Somehow between going to college, getting married, having a career, having a baby and all that other stuff that makes up the days of our life, writing, and sometimes even reading, was put on the back burner.
Now I find myself at an entirely new stage life. Menopause stinks, but being this age presents so many options. I have more "free" time than I've ever had before. No babies to watch, no money to earn, very little housework with only me and the cats here most of the time, very little cooking with Kev gone so much and plenty of time to commune with God and hang out in my hammock.
Encouraged by my friends Dana and Stacie, who blog almost daily, I've decided that if I want to be a writer, then I should write. Sinners sin. Teachers teach. Plumbers plumb. Singers sing. And writers write.
So I write.
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