I am on the farther side of Middle Age, sliding with what I hope is at least a modicum of grace towards the big five-oh.
I have three amazing sons – one of which has left the nest, one who will do so very soon and one who only recently learned the truth about Santa. The Pacific Northwest is my home, and I am at home here. Trees, mountains, impossibly dark starry nights and silent, wild spaces are my drug of choice.
There are way too many books to read, much too much to write about and not nearly enough time. That being said, I hope to add a book or two of my own making to the ruckus at some point in the future. I like to think I could spend every waking hour writing, at least when I wasn’t reading. My brain seems to fly along at freeway speeds most of the time and occasionally makes me grumpy when it keeps me from sleeping.
A brand new chapter is beginning for me – I’ve a newly-minted bachelors degree in a double major of writing/literature and philosophy, and I am looking towards a masters degree as well. I will soon be divorced, having been married for nearly all of my adult life, and the whole process has proven to be the most difficult one of my entire existence. I have much hope for a future filled with contentment and peace.
I love music, thick juicy steaks, deep thinking and running, and I am (slowly) learning to love poetry. I have a very small circle of exceptional, life-long friends and my gratitude knows no end for them. They know who they are.
I believe in God.