I've been writing for a while now, and barely told you anything about myself. Ok then I'll pull the curtain back a little. I'm midway through my forties; career path is flatter than a pancake, which is no bad thing, since it's the life of letters I enjoy the most, either as a reader, or latterly, sticking articles on to this blog. Travelling another big joy, and it's true, always the journey, never the destination. I spend a lot of time idling through an open atlas.
I'm blocked. Can't think of anything to write. There's nothing in there. All I do know is that I want to read more than I want to write; if you can't get out to fish, then you stay at home, mending your nets I suppose
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