Paul and I are starting out the new year with Covid.

I am, shall we say, uncomfortable around large bodies of water.

Back in the day, before everything had a microchip in it, there was ON and OFF

Aspects of history we could, maybe even should, bring forward to the here and now.

Speaking of things out of the ordinary ...

I am a hovercraft; think of it that way.

I promise, this was not a gratuitous placement of a heart throb from days gone by - not that there's anything wrong with that.

I'm curious to see how 2022 unfolds on many levels and I will be here writing my blog and sharing them with you.

"What you think of me is none of my business"

I could really use that these days and I don't care that I have to turn to a housefly to get it. It stills soothes my aching soul.

Cynicism is cheap and easy and caters only to the basest of human nature.

I've spent a lifetime rebelling against productivity.

Which brings me to this question: Can I write and post a blog about nothing?

Then I hit 50 and all hell broke loose. It's like the OFF switch was activated and all that fast moving metabolism came to an abrupt halt.

Bold statement alert: I don't care what you do for a living, being a parent is the hardest job on earth.

When you share your home with cats you give up all hope of having nice things.

Okay, the fascination may have been augmented by the ridiculously cute and smart fella who was doing the talking.

It's hard to write an observational blog when the only thing one is currently observing is herself at her desk, in front of her computer.

It definitely feels like I am waiting for the point. What the heck was 2020 all about because, surely, there is some meaning to find there?

I’ve been faced, in recent weeks, with the challenges of being introverted in an extroverted world