Hippasaurus

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It was in the afternoon of a bright sunny day. We’d been shopping. There was just one more stop. Crystal (aka Marianne in Blue Rubber Pool) was driving. Someone pulled in front of us and WHAM! My knee went into the dashboard—driving my femur into my hip socket. It came out the back like a fist through drywall. Try Googling acetabular fracture. It put me out of commission for awhile and I still come in from working in the yard or riding in the old “farm Jeep” saying, “I’m a hippasaurus.” So I’m writing novels now.

acetabular fracture

Bad things happened, an entire run of them that shut me down, caused me to withdraw from everything except my inner self.

One afternoon, in a hammock, I took a photo of myself. Just my legs. But there was no one to send it to. No one to understand.

I needed a sidekick so I sketched an armadillo because they’re crusty on the outside but not within. I made him my butler. Crusoe’s manservant Friday.

We began interacting—my hammock photo speaking to that critter, that critter speaking back.There’s a folder of cartoons somewhere. For now there’s just this one. (LINK)

Eventually after that I began writing novels.

I’m still a hermit, marooned you might say, but leaving my shell more and more—my inner self seeking its freedom through writing.