The tale of a drifting wannabe

Serendipity, rather random

My story is not the story of the me, born in 1934. No it is the story of the real me born later through various encounters with the living God.

I guess this is as good a place as any to start the story of the drifting wannabe. That’ s me on the left a long long time ago.

And that is me now

I started on a tea chest, a pole and a piece of string.

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