Living the dream

My father was my first hero and that sort of set the bar for the rest of my life.

I dreamed of growing up to be him.

I fell far short of that, but after what has to be at least two thirds of my life has passed, I am closer than I have ever been.

I am as close to living the dream as I believe I ever will be.

Being retired allows me room to do the things I love and I have become pretty good at weeding out things that don't fall neatly into that category.

I volunteer in an elementary school library. I love everything about that job.

When I go home I can read what I please for myself, or a book club filled with women I admire. I can read first hand archival papers, or listen to tapes while I transcribe them for Bestest, a highly respected professor in his own right, and the people he interviews who are awe inspiring. Another friend calls to keep me updated on local play writing and production which is often pretty impressive. And my son calls to talk about books and plays and the musicians my grandson has the good fortune to rub shoulders with.

Sometimes I barely have time to do the usual things I do in the evening, like writing My Thots.

What a blessing.