In the door by the skin of my teeth!

Well, I made it. Barely. And I want to think someone else may benefit from it. So…what you’ll find here may not be terribly enlightening to you, but I was 62 years old coming to it. I hate to think you are that old when you read this! But maybe you can pass along some of my random babbling to a youngster, if you are not one yourself.

DISCLAIMER: I appreciate a well-turned phrase and spotless grammar, and I am warning you now that most of what I will be saying is going to be raw and unrefined. I have to promise myself not to edit myself (a phrase I just edited 4 times in the making), but will just let things flow as they come to me. In exchange, I encourage you not to be too hard on me if you share my words with others. Feel free to egg me personally, though, in the comments. I live for that. 🙄

And yes. I use emojis because I am writing a blog in lieu of bothering my Facebook, Twitter, or personal contacts with random babbling. You subscribed. You know better, and you can un-sub at your discretion without offending me. So think of this as the posts I didn’t post, the texts I didn’t send. And you—you lucky bird—are privy to them!

In about 1976, I had a compliment from a high school social studies teacher—at least I choose to believe he meant it as a compliment—that my writing was engaging, and that I should consider making my life as a writer. Of course, knowing better, I chose music as a more lucrative career goal in college. After all, if English was such a hot major, why didn’t he do it?

So here we are…on the brink of something mildly amusing to me. I hope you find some entertainment in it, if nothing else.

Guess I’ll tell you later why I called the blog and the post “Skin of my teeth.” Or you’ll figure it out. Let’s just say that my escape from a harrowing nightmare saved me, but barely.