Haha. The main thing these posts are helping me feel is HOW MANY YEARS I have lived.

The free time was so astonishing that I wrote it down on a credit-card-sized notecard and stuck it in my wallet, adding to it as it happened. For the first couple of years, I just wrote when free time appeared. Then writing got hold of me and I made time. Although now that I’m writing this, maybe it wasn’t the free time I was recording so much as the beginning of the new journey of writing…

If I knew you didn’t start writing until late 30s, I’d forgotten. I’m so glad to be told now. I’m going through another of my little pity parties about how I wasted so much time re my writing. I didn’t start writing seriously until I was 37, but I’d started a semi-regular flirtation at 30. Of course neither of us wasted a speck of time, you start when you’re called, and everything you’ve done before gets poured into your stories. So it doesn’t matter in the least when you start. That’s what I always say to myself, and today b/c of your post, I’m believing it.

I once briskly walked a 10-mile course with zero training and it was murder on my (very young) body (oh, the impressive size of those blisters, I wish I’d taken a photo). I’m in awe of the distance you and your friend covered. What an accomplishment!

Are these posts making you feel like you’ve lived at least 3 lives rather than 1? That’s how they read to me. I need a nap after every 3rd post or so….

My pleasure?

Thank you, Lady G!