Why

3 1/2 years ago my dad died. I was 33. That’s when my graduate school of life began. That’s when I really started to grow up. That’s when I began to really become me.

My parent’s were big fish actors in a small pond town. This was the late sixties early seventies. They were swingers. Or were they adulterers? Random friends and acquaintances lived with us for long periods of time, some were given the job of nannying me–though they had no interest in children. Let’s just say personal boundaries were not well observed.

And this is just the beginning.

I would like to explore writing a memoir of those early times and the last 4 years, my two childhoods, my two becomings.

And I ask you, gentle readers, to submit any friendly questions you have as sorts of writing assignments, as a way to get me motivated to keep writing and exploring.

There it is….my “why” for this here blog.

I hope you’ll join me regularly in this exploration.

Thanks, I look forward to working with you.