Since August, there have been many times I wanted to record here what had happened.  But I didn’t feel the freedom to do so. As a fiction writer, I am used to making it up, and even if I am using some truth in it, who is to know what is reality and fiction.

In this blog, however, it is my life, and my interactions with friends and family.  While I can’t hide who my mother is, I can protect my friends by changing their names.  Not that they are innocent—more to free me.  Now when I think of something to say, I can say it.  More or less.