This evening I stepped outside onto my too-small deck to enjoy my yard after dark. I stared into the trees, listening to the cicadas (or Jim thought they were tree frogs - I don't know). I remembered that sound, that music, as the indication of my alone time at girl scout camp. We would go to our tents (yes kids, we used to bunk on cots in tents on wooden foundations), and get in our sleeping bags, and the singing insects would be so loud as to drown out the sniffles, snores, etc. of the other girls.
It was at that time I would create stories, imagine worlds, that eventually (years later) would form into writings. Not great ones, but creations that were my own, geeky or not.
So I came inside and jumped on the laptop. silly.
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