When I first received the gift of a blog site (courtesy of Meagan with ideas submitted by others) I thought, no problem.  I can fill a blog with all my great thoughts.  Just as I always thought I could write a novel if I only had the environment (and original idea) 

Ian Fleming used to hide out for 2 months a year in his home in Jamaica, turn off the air conditioner and write a novel while drinking Blue Mountain coffee (and given his liver when he died I suspect other things) but the point is he moved out of normal life to concentrate on his writing.  I don’t want to do that.

So now we come to my blog.  It occurs to me that I am not being interesting enough to attract the millions that could lead to my retirement life made into a movie.  Now I could invent stories about my ongoing life (which I am not reluctant to do, and according to Pat I have done in the past) but that will have to be a future development. 

Here is the highlight of today.  I am making a wooden combination lock in the workshop (a combination lock that is open so you can see how they work) and this evening I am watching the Curling championship.  I am not sure this is the grist of a great novel.  Still it makes me happy.