I live in a little blue house in Seattle and write at a computer with a view of birds and squirrels, trees and overcast skies. I write every day in Barbara's Bookhouse, write or edit a current novel, and post bits of this and that on Facebook when something interesting occurs to me or flies over the transom. I have two grown children of whom I am inordinately fond, no grandchildren, which means more of my time is my own, and a stack of unread books which makes me wish for immortality potions. I like jigsaw puzzles, TV, chocolate, and too many other things to mention. The 6-CD-changer in my car has one Grateful Dead show, two collections of operatic operas, and three lectures on the Western Literary Canon from the Great Courses. I've driven around England twice, and after walking for six hours in the rain fell hopelessly in love with Venice. Still hope to get back there - or Africa. Whichever comes first. I've attended a Latin Mass in Chartres Cathedral and read Wordworth in Tintern Abbey, Aristotle in Assos, and Homer on the site of Troy. I do yoga every morning and read one poem a day. Out loud. As we all should.