I know I need this page, but I’m bewildered by it.
I have written, published, unpublished, rewritten, republished and cringed at it a dozen times.
What can I possibly share that will compel you to read more?
This is what I look like (some of the time):
I have an autistic son, one really fat cat, a sweet (and significantly younger) husband and a lot of dirty grout in my house.
I try to make art, but I get distracted.
I own a lot of cookbooks, but I like to eat out.
I read way too many blogs and not nearly enough books.
My eyes close fast and sometimes I write the wrong words because I’m tired all the time.
I wanted my son to have a sibling, but my body didn’t agree. (Insert grief here.)
My best friend got breast cancer and died when we were 38. That sucked. (Insert more grief.)
My dad died three weeks later. Also sucked. (Grief amplified.)
I spend every spare moment of my life wandering through thrift stores, dreaming of faraway flea markets, and looking for my next great treasure.
That about sums it up.