I no longer look exactly as I did in the 1990s, but I’ve always liked this picture. I look happy. I’m standing beside a tree where many lovers have placed their initials. I was probably in seminary when this was taken, enjoying the freedom that going to school affords. Just imagine, hour after hour to just think, discuss, and write, and the rest of the time is free to run and jump and play. Does it get any better than that? Yes, it does. Retirement for me has been even better than going to school. My goal at retirement was to write my family’s story, and I have made a good start at it in the last seven years. Five books and one rewrite. An accomplishment. A legacy.
Scraps grew out of a hobby that I developed when darkness descended, and I lost my will to continue writing. When the TV was turned on and it was someone else’s turn to tell me their stories, my hands needed to keep busy. It all started with a model city of Woodstock, Illinois (the setting of my books) built for our grandson and my trainset. The statue in the middle of the square of a civil war soldier. When no close miniature statue in the right position could be found, I carved one and the hobby took off from there.
I’m a little more round now than I was in the 90s, but I can’t complain. Becky, my spouse of 32 years, and I live in a house with a beautiful wooded backyard that we bought only last year after a failed attempt at condo living. We have three precious pets: Maggie May, a Yorkie-Bischon (Borky); Pippa Jo, a Maltese, Poodle, Yorkie (Morkipoo), and Clara Jane (the smartest cat in the universe).
I hope you enjoy these fun sculptures built from the scraps of our lives. Slàinte Mhath!
