100 Posts and Counting . . .

Over 50 years? Gawd, has it been that long?

Apparently so . . .

In my distant youth, I read “The Diary of Anne Frank.” Harrowing, horrifying, terrifying, inspiring. It made me yearn to keep a diary. My "Anne Frank" phase lasted about a page and a half. There’s nothing romantic about being pursued by Nazis and I was leading a pretty plain vanilla-American-grade-schooler life. Sure, we lived at Edwards AFB during the "Right Stuff" era, but mostly I had nothing to write about.

Off and on over the years, I’d try again. The results all seemed so angst ridden and whiny or hideously embarrassing, I'd stuff it into a drawer and go on to other things. I envied my friends who journaled but that just never called my name.

So, for the last thirty-five years, I’ve been an interior designer with my own small firm. During that time, I’ve done work for giant institutions (The Port of Seattle ~ Sea-Tac Airport), the city of Seattle, the University of Washington, several Microsoft billionaires, several millionaires and some thousandaires. Since the 90’s, I’ve concentrated on historic restoration, green construction, and the use of architectural salvage. Deeply satisfying work that matched my personal values.

I ran for Congress in a thoroughly conservative district (that's another story with the working title "The Day I Went Crazy and Ran for Congress!") and immersed myself in crafting my progressive views. I didn't win. It was a profound and inspiring adventure.

My children are grown. My oldest is an attorney with a large American law firm. He is based in Milan. My youngest son is an Equity actor and has his first leading role. They both graduated from schools in Boston and lead interesting, full-filling lives. My late husband was a certified financial planner, a Naval aviator and in one of the early classes of Top Gun. I have a dog the size of a sofa who thinks of our relationship as collegial. I live in a small palazzo in the suburbs of Seattle.

In November 2008, the recession caught up with me and I needed to change directions.

This March, I was driving back from a client’s on a wonderful bright Seattle day. Mount Rainier was out. I had an epiphany. I need to do something different.

Now, I write. I have things to say. I love everything about the process: crafting the thought, taking the photos, launching the post. Soul satisfying.

While it is true, the Nazis aren’t chasing me, my house is underwater and, like many of you out there, I'm tap dancing as fast as I possibly can. I'm working to make a dollar act like $10.00. And, I live in fear of Bank of America. Does that count?

As I explore this new adventure, let me know what you think . . .