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I recently retired from a twenty-four year career as a swim coach and settled into the more sedentary and decidedly quieter life of a writer. The halo of chlorine that has surrounded me nearly half my life is dissipating and I'm no longer keeping St. Ives in business.
My office, formally a dismal puce when occupied by my youngest daughter is now a seasonal winter white. I am joined here occasionally by a bulimic calico cat named Maya who enjoys baring her claws and climbing onto my lap. Fortunately she usually gives me some warning before coughing up something nasty.
My dog Sadie, who has learned from the cat that humans' sole purposes in life are to feed and pet, often sticks her long shepherd nose under my left hand and nudges until I capitulate and scratch her under her chin. Sometimes, if I am lucky, she will fall over in a fit of ecstasy and I will still be able to use both hands to type. Usually, though, she is able to control her emotion so I do a great deal of typing with one hand. This slows things down.
My eldest daughter lives in Asheville which is a very cool place and where I would be also if I weren't snowed in here in Michigan. Sadly, I will remain in this block of ice until my husband retires which will be, he assures me, as soon as I complete the Great American Novel and can support him in the style to which he aspires.
I have two more daughters. My middle daughter is twenty-six, has a Master's from Tulane, and is living at home. Since she finds this mortifying, I will say no more about it.
My youngest lives in Tallahassee where she swims outside in January and I try not to think about it especially when I look out my living room window and see forty feet of snow. My only consolation is that she dislikes her job. She plans to return home in June.
Did I mention Asheville? I hear the daffodils are in bloom. . .

I recently retired from a twenty-four year career as a swim coach and settled into the more sedentary and decidedly quieter life of a writer. The halo of chlorine that has surrounded me nearly half my life is dissipating and I'm no longer keeping St. Ives in business. My office, formally a dismal puce when occupied by my youngest daughter is now a seasonal winter white. I am joined here... More