Second childhood...

Woke up, went downstairs to talk to the cabinet installer, put in time at the keyboard, then traipsed off to the orthodontist to get braces. Yeah. Braces. After all these years.

Been threatening to write a memoir about my early days in Wisconsin, and think maybe now’s the time to start sorting through my notes. While I’m looking and feeling like a fourteen year old dork. 

Have a lot of good material. Enough to make a book? I don’t know. But as long as I’m in composition-mode, may as well give it a shot. What's the worst that can happen?