I promiced I would write a bit more about my faith. I strongly suspect that my grandmother was the one who convinced my mom to send me to christian camp. But whatever the reason, faith became a big componant in my life. I am not sure I could do justice to what it means to me to someone who doesnt believe, but I needed that sense that somehow, in some way, there was plan, and I was included. That Someone beyond myself, greater than myself, was in charge, and He actuallly cared about me. When I found whosoever prays, it was, as it were, an answer to prayer in itself.

Here's a nice, cheery blog post (well, sort of...)

Just to prove I'm not afraid of laughing at myself...

A few weeks ago, I attended a weekend social in Bournemouth with about a dozen people from another online community I'm a member of - the Radio 4 PM Blog.

Maybe you veterans can tell me what to make of this. Maybe this is as good as it is going to get.

Dear Dad,

Ran across this site today in my surfing. Think they're talking about us?

http://www.lambdaliterary.com/trans/02/25/is-there-or-should...

Hugs

Grover

Well, I would like to take a sec to talk about my faith. I became a Christian at the age of 13, thanks to a Chritian summer camp. That came as a shock to my folks, as my mom was a lapsed Catholic and my stepfather was a atheist. But thanks in part to my brother's support, I made the plunge. Not having a "home church", I went to whatever church I could get to. For the first few years, that was a baptist church, and I was officialy baptised at age 18.

Well, since people refuse to write this blog for me, I guess I am stuck doing it, giggle. So I wanted to talk about my little piece "The talk" for a second. This one came to me as a, er, erotic dream. Which is weird for me, because normaly I don't dream of boys. Its got me wondering a bit about dorothy's orientation, giggle. Fortunatly for my readers, I toned it down from R rated to PG. If you havent noticed by now, I am not one for a lot of graphic descriptions in any case. Besides, I think the reader can fill in the blanks just fine, dont you?

Someone, not an author on this site, has been reading my novels and voting! Wow! What a nice thing to come home to. Who ever you are, I really appreciate it. Send me a PM if you want to talk about the stories.

Portia

You may recall a few weeks ago, I mentioned a daft weekend project of mine, to slowly produce chapter summaries for a certain story featuring characters with the unlikely names of Cathy Watts, Stella Cameron and Simon Cameron. Not forgetting Tom Agnew, Mima, Trish, Livvie, Danny, Billy, and Julie - together with appearances by Leon and his mum, Pippa and her sons, the lab technicians Neal and Gloria, Simon's father Henry and his other half Monica, several dozen other humans, and a dormouse by the name of Spike.

After a sleepless night (up at 1AM and couldn't get back to sleep) I was picked up at 6AM for the trip to the VA hospital in Buffalo N.Y. It snowed all the way there, sometimes reducing visibility to less than 100 feet. The roads, even the interstate, were not good at all, and we saw many cars and trucks off the road in the ditches.

but I'm too wiped out to write anything right now. I'll blog tomorrow. For now, let's just say that my worst fears seem unfounded. There IS a problem, but not such a serious, life threatening one.

Thank you all for caring.

Hugs and love,
Cathy