. . . in hugger-mugger . . .

In the beginning, there was the word.

I’m the wench who’s wielding it.

I am a woman of a certain age using pen and keyboard to (try to) make sense of life and love. As I said on a recent date, I have an almost pathological need to transmute my experiences into something meaningful. (Hmmmm. Could this be why he didn’t call again?) With transmutation – ah! – the dross becomes gold. And all of my friends have a good laugh about my love life.

So I’m writing. Writing about, in no particular order (and in varying degrees of soul-baring undress):

1. The cats
2. My love life
3. The empty nest
4. The children!
5. Sex
6. Friends (enemies, and frenemies)
7. Weight
8. Men
9. Meno . . . pause
10. Food
11. Music
12. Did I say sex?
13. Money
14. Meaning
15. Work

. . . And so much more.

Thank you, Gentle Reader, for humoring me.