My last day of employment was February 28, 2014. At 57 (nearly 58) I was so ready. I’d talked about retiring relentlessly in recent years which kept my focus on that goal until everything aligned. In retirement, I’d envisioned writing a book – a cookbook, comic novel, blog, travelogue – perhaps even a children’s book (about the colony of feral cats who live in my garden oasis, but I digress). It was always this “someday when I have time” kind of goal. I’d told friends, family, co-workers, customers. Pretty much anyone who’s met me would tell you it was a recurring theme with me. My lifelong friend, who also wanted to write, opened her home to a like-minded group of women and found an instructor willing to guide us. By the end of March, I was enrolled in a writing class! Each class introduced us to a form of poetry which we were then instructed to compose, in that style “on-the-spot“. And then read what we wrote in front of the class! I remember feeling a clench in the gut, thinking “don’t tank, don’t seize up” but then with a calm that I can only describe as divine intervention, this profound poem came out of me. And from each of my classmates. NO ONE CHOKED. (Thank God) It was pretty remarkable. And this happened at every class! My blog took a bit longer to begin due to getting easily sidetracked by numerous “shiny objects aka procrastination”. I’ve decided to get serious and quit talking about it, just jump in. And so it begins….