Too old, two daughters, one husband, one dog, two bad knees, one bad back and a degree in Art & Aesthetics, fairly well travelled, reasonably well read, appalling housekeeper although not a bad cook when I put my mind to it.
For reasons I don't understand I was elected Chair of a small but prolific writers group put together specifically for carers and ex carers in the Rhondda Cynon Taff area in South Wales. We meet up once a month, talk about and share what we have read or written and give each other some moral/mutual support. We have just published our first extremely slim volume of short stories and poems called Handle With Care.
I like to take photographs, a sad old digital SLR goes most places with me. I don't pretend to know what I am doing, but things take my eye and I take a photograph.
My eldest daughter is almost 26 years old, she is severely autistic, living at home with me and and her dad, who isn't autistic but sometimes I wonder! On my twitter profile I say: Life is caring for my 23yr old autistic daughter. It's like living in a Monty Python sketch, only longer and more surreal. I'm standing by that statement, nothing has changed.