I love writing, and I love being a writer. I am finally at that point in life that I can respond to people who ask what I do, I can say, "I'm a writer" and not cringe. My long-suffering bride and inspiration observes that I am happiest when I am writing, and I guess that's true. Time disappears when I'm working on a new chapter, or editing one already written. So I am a happy guy and now I need to get back to writing this afternoon. More later.
P.S. The flowers were grown by said long-suffering wife. Aren’t they glorious?
